Interview with Willa Goodfellow

In Prozac Monologues: A Voice from the Edge, mental health journalist and Episcopal priest Willa Goodfellow shares her journey to recovery with transparent detail — from an antidepressant-induced hypomania that hijacked her Costa Rican vacation to the discovery that she had been misdiagnosed to learning how to manage life on the bipolar spectrum.

This raw, vulnerable collection of essays offers both a memoir and a self-help guide to others struggling with mental illness, including those on the bipolar spectrum who, like Goodfellow, are often initially diagnosed with depression. 

Part of Prozac Monologues was penned in a hypomanic state and allows the reader to witness the inner workings of a racing and agitated mind. But Goodfellow also dedicates much of her work to describing in clear and accessible language the mechanics of a bipolar brain and how it is diagnosed, with the help of academic psychiatrists and current research findings. 

Prozac Monologues is described as a book within a book. What does that mean?

The first book, Prozac Monologues, was written in 2005. I was being treated for major depression when I had a bizarre experience at my doctor’s office, a side effect from the medication itself. To cope with my fear and anxiety, I retold the experience to myself as a comedy routine exploring the question, “What exactly is bizarre?” Three weeks later while visiting my family in Costa Rica, I was overtaken by a hypomanic episode. I wrote the first monologue on the plane down there, and then simply could not stop. Most of the monologues were written that week. Two weeks later, the book was finished, a memoir expressing confidence that my depression could be treated and that I would recover.

But I didn’t have major depression. That hypomanic episode was not understood by myself nor recognized by my doctors. It would take another five years before I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. By that time, the information in the book about depression was outdated, and it didn’t apply to me anyway.

But I loved that book! It was funny! And I wasn’t willing to toss it out as a botched job. I considered the stage setting of monologues. It occurred to me that a heckler in the audience might interrupt the speaker periodically to explain what was really going on, that what the audience was witnessing, or the reader reading, was actually a demonstration of hypomania and a different diagnosis.

I was pretty sick for a while before getting my diagnosis and learning how to manage it. To write the heckler’s part, I had to recover a lot of cognitive function that had been lost when “my brain blew up.” Then I had to learn about a condition not so well known understood as simple depression. Finally, I had to figure out how to explain what I was learning from the research in a way that was both clear and entertaining to a general audience. Fifteen years from the hypomanic episode to the published book.

So those are the two books, the original Prozac Monologues and the interpretive frame around the monologues related by my imaginary heckler.

How did you get the title?

The naming was an emotional process for me. My publisher rejected Prozac Monologues and Heckler. (That suggestion was made with tongue in cheek. It was the name of the file of my rewrite.) The first part was nonnegotiable for me. Prozac Monologues had always been the name, claiming kinship with the outrageousness of The Vagina Monologues. It’s my brand of sorts, the name of my blog. But the subtitle was tougher. I didn’t want the word “memoir” in there, because it’s more than that. Chris Aiken, MD, editor-in-chief of The Carlat Psychiatry Report and a leading clinician in the treatment of bipolar wrote about it, “You’ll gain a textbook’s worth of knowledge about depression and bipolar disorder without ever feeling like you read a textbook.” I worked hard for that kudo!

In the brainstorming process, the word voice began to resonate. It is a book with a message, and it has been both a struggle and a triumph to get that voice heard. So—A Voice from the Edge. That heckler snuck into the title after all!

How can a book about mental illness and even suicide be so funny?

Humor has three roles in this book. Originally, it was a defense mechanism, a way for me to avoid the depth of my distress about that doctor’s office, even to forget aspects of it. Then it became a reframing device, standing to one side of a thought and examining it. “I am not my thoughts—I have my thoughts.” Reframing doesn’t always work in the moment. But looking back, I could recognize my thoughts as ridiculous, and then laugh at them. Finally, comedians get to talk about stuff that polite society doesn’t. One of the worst parts of being suicidal is the isolation, not being able to talk about it. When I turn it into a joke, the “normies” don’t feel the need to call 911, and those who struggle recognize that they are not alone.

How has your life changed since writing the book, and is there anything about post-launch that has surprised you?

What surprised me most is that the work doesn’t end. It just changes. The book has been a springboard for speaking engagements, discussion groups, and podcasts. I am connecting with people in the mental health field around the world on Twitter. Most rewarding are the exchanges with individuals who have had similar experiences or love somebody who has, and have found the book a valuable resource.

What’s next?

I am recording Prozac Monologues as an audio book. It’s a natural for that. Monologues are a spoken medium, after all. And in my previous work as a preacher, I spent my whole life writing for speech. The audio book will make the work accessible to more people. But I think even people who have an e-book or printed copy will get added value from my voice. There is that word again, voice. Thanks to Brooke Warner for getting me to that word.

Find Willa at WillaGoodfellow.com and on Twitter @WillaGoodfellow

Don’t miss a blog post!

Receive my blog posts directly to your inbox.

Available on Amazon!