I wandered around not knowing what I was doing in The Great Waldo Pepper and feeling pretty lost, and they rightly cut my part down. I don't think I was in very good emotional shape. I think I was a bit of a mess. I'd done about six movies back-to-back, and was in a state of complete exhaustion.

I still get stopped by those freaky fundamentalists going "Oh, I'm so glad you did Tribulation." And I wanna go, "Don't count me into your group, honeybuns. I'm not one of you."

The thing about all good horror movies is that the fans expect a couple of inside jokes. Maybe I'm supposed to be saying how terrified I was while making it, but it was really fun.

I was with Brian De Palma at the time, and he said he wrote the role specifically for me. I don't know what that says about the way he saw me, since the role was of a castrating killer. Brian came one morning to the house, said "Here's your Christmas present." He wrote the character to have a Swedish accent, but since I couldn't pull that off, he switched it to French-Canadian. It was such a romantic time in my life. Everyone was young and passionate and convinced they were going to change film forever.

I, like everybody else, have lost most of my pension plan in this economic crash. So I have to. I'm going to call it I Slept With Everyone On Television.

I was saying to Paul Schrader that he missed the idealism and the passion of that era in Hollywood, but also in American life, that '60s sense of optimism and hope.

I guess I came to terms with my demons. Or else I'd be in big trouble, wouldn't I? Horrifying as it was to crack up in the public eye, it made me look at myself and fix it. People were exploitative; that's human nature. I'll tell you, being pretty crazy while being chased by the National Enquirer is not good. The British tabloids were the worst. But you take the cards you're dealt, and I got better. I'm now ferociously healthy in body and mind. You couldn't pay me to go near a psychiatrist again. Stopping seeing them was my first step to getting well.