In a world that runs too fast, where anxiety has become the silent companion of millions of people, Ferran Cases appears. @ferrancases - ferrancases.com with a proposal as unexpected as it is powerful: laughter to heal. A writer, educator, journalist, and now also a stand-up comedian, Ferran has transformed his personal story into a show that blends neuroscience, psychology, and laughter. His show, Bye Bye Ansiedad, not only entertains, but transforms.
Today we talk to him about his stage presence, his life journey, and how he's managed to transform fear into art. Because when someone says, "I work closely with a team of psychologists dedicated exclusively to helping you overcome anxiety through a therapeutic process," you know there's much more to it than a monologue.
Ferran, how do you go from suffering from anxiety to getting on stage to talk about it with humor? Great question! I'm adding it to my list of "things I never thought I'd be asked when I was paralyzed by anxiety." Look, when you suffer from anxiety, the last thing you imagine is ending up on a stage, under the spotlight, with people staring at you. That used to seem like asking a fish to give a talk on how to breathe air.
The key was transforming the experience: I went from being a victim of anxiety to a "first-person expert." And when you tell your story with humor, something magical happens:
One: You free yourself (because laughing at monsters turns them into dwarfs). Two: the audience is liberated, discovering that anxiety is not an invincible monster, but a burdensome character… but comical if you look at it from another perspective.
So one day I thought, "If I can laugh about this, surely others can too. And if they learn how to handle it, even better." And that's how the Bye Bye Anxiety Show was born, where I mix the serious (because anxiety is serious) with the lighthearted (because humor is medicine). In short: I went from shaking in a chair to making a theater shake with laughter.
What led you to turn your personal experience into a show? How to Bye Bye Anxiety? What drove me was, basically, pure necessity. When you're going through a hell like anxiety, you have two choices: hide it like a shameful secret, or turn it into fuel to do something useful. I chose the latter.
For years, I simply survived, but when I started sharing it, I discovered that it helped people, that many saw themselves reflected in it, and that there was a different way to talk about mental health: relatable, clear, and, yes, with humor. Because if we take anxiety too seriously, it wins. On the other hand, if we manage to look at it with irony, it loses its power.
The show was born from that combination: the desire to help, the need to normalize what so many of us are experiencing, and the conviction that getting on stage was the best way to reach many more people at once. It's my way of saying: "I've been there, I know what you're feeling, and I promise you can get through it... even laughing along the way."
You are the author of books such as The Little Big Book of Anxiety and The happy people's brains. How is that content translated into language? of humor?
My books aren't boring manuals or medical treatises. They're almost like a written monologue: anecdotes, humor, absurd comparisons, and personal experiences that turn a serious topic into something you can read without feeling like you're carrying an encyclopedia. When I talk about anxiety or happiness in my books, I do it the same way I would on a stage: telling a story about what happened to me, exaggerating a little so you can see how ridiculous it can be, and using humor as glue to make the information stick.
So, it's not really that I have to "translate" my books into the language of humor. They're already written in that language. What I do on the show is bring those same stories and jokes to the live show, so that people not only read it, but also experience it with me.
What does the monologue format have that allows you to connect with the audience? so directly? The monologue has a tremendous advantage: it eliminates distance. There's no lectern, no formality, no "Dr. Cases" in a white coat and PowerPoint graphics. It's just me, a guy who's been through the same thing as many of those sitting in the booth, speaking with closeness.
This format allows for two things that are golden:
1. Authenticity. I tell my anecdotes as they are, without disguise. When I say that anxiety paralyzed me or that I thought I'd die in a traffic jam, people laugh... and recognize themselves.
2. Rhythm. Humor keeps people engaged. You can explain how the brain and cortisol work, but if you do it as a monologue, with exaggerations and absurd examples, no one will tune out.
At its core, a monologue is the most honest way to say, "Look, I'm not above you, I'm with you." And that connection is what turns such a serious topic into a shared experience that can even be fun.
How do people react during the show? Did you see tears, laughter, hugs, etc.? I've seen it all. The audience goes from laughter to tears in a matter of seconds. And I think it's beautiful, because it means they're allowing themselves to feel, that they're not trapped in a single emotion. Some people cry with relief, because for the first time someone is putting words and humor into what they've been experiencing in silence for years. Others laugh because they realize they're not crazy, that those absurd feelings of anxiety have happened to many of us. And yes, after the show I received long hugs, the kind that say more than a thousand "thank yous."
The beautiful thing is that it creates a sense of community. No one feels awkward, no one feels alone. In the theater, anxiety ceases to be a private monster and becomes something shared. And that mix of laughter, tears, and hugs is proof that humor, when used truthfully, heals a little.
What can you tell us about your upcoming shows in Barcelona? Where and When can we see you? Until December I will be in the Poca Solta Room in Barcelona, where I do one performance a month, and the atmosphere is spectacular, very intimate and warm. The idea is that, if we keep up this pace and the audience response holds up, we'll make the leap to a larger theater here in Barcelona. We already tried it at the Sala Villarroel and it was an incredible experience, so repeating it in a space like this is a natural next step.
And then yes, the idea is to take the show to Madrid, a city I hold dear and where I've performed several times with fantastic reception. But for now, the first thing is to continue enjoying this monthly format at Poca Solta and prepare well for the next step in Barcelona.
If you look back, what moment marked the beginning of your transformation? as a stage communicator? The turning point was the first time I publicly shared, without any filters, that I had suffered from anxiety and how it had literally paralyzed me. I did so in a small, almost impromptu talk, in front of people who had expected something more "serious" and academic.
That day I discovered two things: one, that by sharing my real experience, people engaged much more than with any theory. And two, that when I allowed myself to laugh about what had happened, the audience laughed with me, and that not only relieved everyone else, but me too. That's when I realized that vulnerability and humor were my best stage. That moment was like opening a floodgate: it was no longer just about explaining what anxiety is, but about experiencing it with the audience, transforming it into something shared. And that was the seed of everything that came after.
What if you look ahead? What do you dream of doing in the future? showman, journalist or creator? If I look ahead, the first thing that comes to mind is to keep writing. Two new books are coming out next year that I'm really excited about, and I feel like each written project allows me to reach people who might never set foot in a theater, but who also need tools and a little humor to deal with anxiety.
At the same time, I want to continue growing in the theater. I love that direct contact with the audience, that energy that only comes together live. And I'm not going to lie to you: I dream of a Netflix special. They say you have to dream big, and I've already learned that if I was able to transform anxiety into a show, I can also aspire to bring it to a global screen.
So, in short, more books, more scenarios, and a clear dream: that the message that you can laugh and learn from anxiety reaches ever further.
What is the creative process behind Bye Bye Anxiety? Do you write? alone, do you rehearse with psychologists, do you test in front of an audience? The creative process is far less glamorous than people imagine. At first, it's very lonely and, let's face it, quite boring: hours and hours of writing, editing, mulling over each idea until the text starts to take shape.
When I finally have a solid draft, the fun part comes. I gather my friends, read them the entire show, and become a relentless observer. If they laugh, the gag stays. If they don't laugh... I have to find alternatives. That filter is infallible, because they don't give me laughter.
In short: first the solitude of my desk, then the laboratory in my living room with my friends as judges. And from there, it's time for the stage, where a real audience polishes every detail. Because in the end, the show isn't fully written until I share it live.
You say you work closely with a team of psychologists. How do you Does that influence the content of the show? Working with psychologists gives me something fundamental: rigor. I contribute anecdotes, humor, and personal experience, but I need to ensure that everything I convey has a solid foundation and that no one gets the wrong message. They review, correct, and refine. Sometimes they tell me, "This sounds funny, but be careful how the people listening to it understand it." And then I adjust. Thanks to this collaborative effort, the show isn't just entertainment: it becomes a safe space where people laugh, identify with, and even take away real tools to better understand their anxiety.
In other words: I provide the speakerphone, and the psychologists help me make sense of what comes out and truly helps. That blend of humor and science is what makes the show work.
Do you think humor can be a real therapeutic tool? Where is the line between laughing at something and laughing with something? I'm convinced that humor is a therapeutic tool. It doesn't replace psychological therapy, but it does open doors: it relaxes, builds trust, breaks the ice, and allows you to look at anxiety from a different angle. When you laugh, your brain relaxes enough to let information in and you can consider new ways of dealing with what's happening to you.
Now, the limit is very important. It's not about laughing at anxiety as if it were a trivial joke, because for those who suffer from it, it's very serious. It's about laughing with anxiety, recognizing that it's there, that it can be absurd, that it can put you in ridiculous situations, and that you can still view it with a certain amount of irony.
That's the difference: humor doesn't minimize the problem, it humanizes it. And when something becomes more human, it stops being a monster.
What would you say to someone who is hesitating to come to the show because “isn’t it funny”? I'd tell him that's precisely why he should come. When you feel like you're "not up for laughing," that's usually the moment when you most need a break. The show isn't just about laughter; it's a journey that also includes insight, anecdotes that make you feel less awkward, and moments of emotion.
You don't have to arrive with a desire to party; you just have to arrive with a desire to not feel alone. The humor in the show serves a larger purpose: to leave you feeling a little lighter, with the feeling that what's happening to you has an explanation, that there are ways to deal with it, and that, yes, you can even smile in the midst of it all.
In short: you don't need to be well to come; you can come even if you're sick. The show is designed to be supportive, not demanding.
The stage as a space for healing
Ferran Cases doesn't do comedy to escape anxiety. He does it to look at it head on, take it apart and share it. His show is not only entertainment: it is an invitation to reconcile with oneself, to understand that fear does not have to be the enemy, and that laughter can be the first step towards emotional freedom.
If you have anxiety, you go with tools. If you don't, you go with empathy. And if you just want to laugh, you'll leave with a lighter heart.
Bye Bye Ansiedad is not just a show. It's a journey. And Ferran Cases, its A guide with the soul of a comedian awaits you on stage.
