Loopy Ruby waxes lyrical

She and Bye have three children, Max, Madeleine and Marina.

"They are my soft underbelly. I don't mention them a lot in the book," she says. "They are characters. They have changed me. They are fun. I try not to repeat to them what my parents did to me." She is, however, very open about what maternity means to her. "I had no idea how to be a mother," she says.

"Childbirth is f***ing hell. The IQ seeps from your fibres. I truly distrust people who say that they love giving birth and that everything is so wonderful. They are liars. As a child I was made to feel that nothing I did was right. That fear has stayed with me. How does anyone ever know what to do? Outside the school gates, for example. That's terrifying. All those self-assured mothers, those Notting Hill types who wear Miu Miu, dropping the kids off to school. Only it's worse. It's faded Miu Miu and their kids have that look in their eyes that says: 'I'm going to be a banker just like Daddy.' I thought they were in some kind of conspiracy against me."

There is this strange schism within Ruby Wax. Professionally she is a powerhouse. All her programmes, give or take a few, are created by her. "Some survive," she says, "some don't." Recently, her BBC prime-time quiz show The Waiting Game, in which she got to be hilariously rude to members of the public, was shelved.

"Yeah well, maybe people didn't get it." She doesn't seem remotely bothered. She has six new celebrity shows to do in the style of her much-acclaimed Madonna/Hugh Hefner/Goldie Hawn interviews. Then there's her mid-morning slot where she, her guests and the studio audience talk about subjects such as revenge. "Oh, I love that," she says. "I'm very big on revenge. Most of my life has been about it: revenge on my parents, revenge on people who told
me I'd be nothing. I would kill for revenge if it didn't mean I'd end up in jail!"

On a personal level, though, she is far less assured, far more insecure, prone to selfanalysis, shyness and crippled by an inability to relate to others. She says she has few real friends. "Have you noticed that people don't listen? Not really. You tell someone something really important and they just nod and carry on with what they were saying. I listen, you see. I am a good listener."

She genuinely trusts very few people. "There's Alan Rickman," she says - whom she met when they were both at the RSC and who directed her first selfwritten show - Jennifer Saunders, "a genius", Dawn French, "another genius", and her husband, whom she describes as "human Valium". She would kill him, or at least "chop up his suits", if he ever left. "He's about to go away for a year, working in LA. So...I heard of a woman who married a very vain man. When he started an affair with a much younger woman she took every single suit in by half an inch. The whole lot. Isn't that amazing? I'd do that."

Recently there were reports in the press of her having an affair with a young internet entrepreneur. She snorts when this is mentioned. "For God's sake," she says, "how could that possibly happen? Look at me. I only just managed to get it together with Ed.

I hate people who say things like: 'When I met him, I just knew he was the one.' That's rubbish. I think everything is a matter of bungled timing. Christ, I mean I've spent half my life involved with homosexuals!"

Well, that's true. In her book, although she fails to mention her first two marriages, she quite happily admits that she's spent a fair portion of her life being in love with gay men.

She also reveals that she took her first child, Max, to the doctor because she thought he was in a coma when he was actually just sleeping. And her nervous breakdown occurred shortly after the birth of her third child, Marina.

Wax could talk about therapy and the pursuit of happiness forever. She says she didn't go to The Priory to get therapy: "I went to relax. I had become obsessed with decorating the house. I mean, beyond anything normal. I was in a 'various shades of white' phase.

I asked the nanny if I had gone a bit loopy - because you can't tell yourself - and she said yes, so I booked myself in. I was juggling three kids and work, and I was tired." She says she wasn't gaga or desolate or depressed. "I think I was chemically unbalanced.

There are a lot of us out there like that. I saw them all with this look on their faces," - she pulls a blank face - "and I recognised it, because it's the same one I had and my mother has - only no one found that out about her."

When she came out of The Priory she found a therapist and everything got a lot better. "Look, I was lucky," she says. "I spent a year studying psychology at university in the States, so I knew what I was looking for." Other than that, Wax thinks most therapists are charlatans. "They need no qualifications. They could be anybody. They charge a lot of money, and most of it is a waste of time." Her quick guide to when to get off the therapist's couch and run like hell goes like this: "If you ever hear one of them say any of the following: 'Give me a hug'; 'Let's get out the crystals'; 'I think you should be reborn'; 'Who do you think you were in a previous life', leave immediately."

She also believes that the route of happiness does not lie in therapy. "It helped me," she says, "but I was ready to be helped. You know who are the happiest people on earth? American waitresses. Me and Ed have just got back from Montana and I never met so many happy waitresses. They don't have envy, they don't have ambition."

She talks a lot about what-would-I-do-if-I-weren't-a-celebrity, but there's no denying she likes it. Part of her loves the attention, hence the publication of the book when much else in her life is quiet. "Celebrity is a fantastic substitute for mommy and daddy's f***-ups," she says. "I think fame can be a high-octane, addictive thing - and I've certainly craved attention in my time - but fame cannot compensate for what you lack. Anyone who gets off on being a celebrity is sick. I mean ill, really ill."

But it's obvious she likes being around the famous even if she doesn't count herself, even now, as being one of them. Celebrities certainly seem to like her. She is clever and funny and nosy and, as Americans tend to put it, she is an "enabler".

During the time I spent with her I felt terrific, as if I was the funniest person I'd ever be likely to meet.

I can understand how she effortlessly persuaded Imelda Marcos, OJ Simpson and Sarah Ferguson, among others, to ridicule themselves and their lifestyles.

They tell her everything and do mad, tactless, shocking things like pretend to stab her with a banana (Simpson), show her their colour-coded knicker drawers (Ferguson) and sing Mares Eat Oats whilst boasting of their 1,000-pair shoe collection (Marcos). "But they all loved the programmes," says Wax. "Imelda Marcos was really pleased because I didn't ask her about her tyrannical husband. I didn't need to. It was there. The viewers knew that."

There is still a conundrum, though. Why is she so worried that the book won't sell? "Geared to failure, I suppose," she says. "The book's funny. And it's not just about my parents - you will mention that, won't you? The mother stuff is funny. The breakdown's pretty interesting. I want it to be a success. I want the money! All women know they have to earn money themselves. Let's face it, there's no point relying on men."