As a comedian, you are often subject to criticism: partly because comedy is so subjective and partly because social media means that any idiot with an internet connection has a direct line to you. Sometimes, the criticism can be imaginative as well as insulting, but most of the time it’s stuff like: “So you’re supposed to be a comedian?” or: “You’re about as funny as herpes,” or: “I hope you die in a fire.”

I don’t mind any of this, really; it’s part and parcel of a job in the public eye. (At the same time, to be clear, I think all of these people are scum.) What I do object to is my inner voice – my harshest critic, and impossible to turn off. I like to be fairly relaxed about my work – in fact, in my life, I consider myself a member of the church of “passionate indifference”. And yet the inner bastard is ever present.

Whenever I am about to do a gig or a TV show, or write a column, the inner bastard says something along the lines of: “You’re shit at this. And even if you thought you weren’t shit at it earlier, you are shit at it now.” This is not helpful, as comedy is all about being in the moment. Yet even as I typed that sentence, the voice went: “You shouldn’t be writing this sentence because you don’t even know what comedy is.”

I have always had this voice, even in my teaching days, but doing a job as public as standup has exacerbated it. I have chalked it up as something that I just have to live with: perhaps it’s a motivating force that pushes me to better myself and enables me to avoid complacency? The problem is, it’s bloody exhausting. It also means that, while I very much enjoy creating things, I rarely enjoy them being performed, published or broadcast, for fear of some troll voicing exactly what my inner bastard has been telling me all along. In fairness, I can guarantee that I will also get a phone call from my mum telling me I just did the best thing in history, despite looking a bit fat.

I have looked into many ways of dealing with this. There are books, YouTube videos and self-help gurus all proclaiming that, if you adopt a positive mindset you can overcome these thoughts and be a superachiever with a good attitude. I have not found this particularly effective: any fixes require effort and are only temporary. Also, I find very positive people very punchable. Maybe that’s part of my problem.

The most effective strategy I have found is to let the thoughts run: to remember that they are just thoughts. The inner voice actually starts sounding desperate after a while. “You’re shit. You’re going to have a shit gig and then people are going to hate you, and then your wife won’t love you any more, and then you’ll be lonely and not funny. And you smell.” It’s like a bully running out of steam.

The worst manifestation of my inner bastard is when he’s right. Last night, I left a gig immediately after performing because he had been saying I was going to be crap and, to my mind, the prophecy came true. I was lacklustre, not in the moment, substandard. As I performed, I could hear the voice. “Oh dear,” it said. “They didn’t really go for that, did they? And that was probably your best bit.” This undermined any positive responses I did get; after a round of applause, the voice said, “Of course they clapped – it was really obvious.” As I walked off stage, inner bastard said, “Told you.” Then I went home and ate nine vegan sausage rolls with hot sauce. And, just as I typed that, I heard the voice say: “You’re going to get even fatter.”