I’d describe myself as grounded and self-aware. And I think the backbone to that is my commitment to the truth. I live by one moral principle, really: to live as honestly as possible. I’m quite obsessive-compulsive about honesty and have a physical discomfort for any kind of untruth. As a performer, I find myself drawn more and more to true storytelling. The motto I live by is, ‘The truth is always complex’ – as in the truth is in the detail and the detail is complicated.

My way of switching off is going on social media. It’s easy – it’s just people saying stuff. Charlie Brooker once did a list of the greatest video games ever and he put Twitter at the top of the list. It’s enormously distracting, but it is just a game.

I spend a lot of time on social media and people ask me if the abuse I get is upsetting, but working in comedy has built up my skin – I’m used to hecklers. Their interest is in being heard and turning the volume up on themselves. The very nature of social media is people waving the flag of self.

I tend to feed the trolls because it gives me material for my work. I’m sometimes taken aback by the racist and antisemitic abuse I get, but most of the time I’ll get angry for a second, and then remind myself, ‘This is material.’ The trick is not to be too reactive.

I’ve been aware of my own mortality since I was 12. I think it was Martin Amis who said before the age of 40 you can’t imagine your own death and after the age of 40 you don’t think of anything else. I don’t know if that’s completely true, but I do feel, at 53, that my work and family life are coloured by the idea of death.

My dad has dementia, so I monitor my own memory in a way that other people may not. As an atheist, I don’t believe in an afterlife so I feel I need to fit in as much as I can while I’m here.

David Baddiel’s stand-up show My Family: Not the Sitcom is currently on a UK tour (davidbaddiel.com)