He said he now saw the lie of so many of his favorite comic books that portray the impact of a death in the family. “If Bruce Wayne watched his parents murdered at 9, he wouldn’t become this cut hero,” he said, referring to the Batman origin story. “He would become Gotham’s most annoying slam poet. How about someone dies, and they just get fat and angry and confused? But no, immediately, they’re at the gym.”

Mr. Oswalt says he has never been less healthy: crippled by sadness, struggling to hold it together day by day. He went to counseling, read C. S. Lewis’s “A Grief Observed” and reread the part of Stephen King’s “On Writing” that describes struggling to work after a debilitating injury, taking satisfaction in finishing one page.

Mr. Oswalt also tried drinking. “I found out the hard way these past few months that alcohol really doesn’t help,” he said, letting out a dramatic sigh.

As serious fans of his comedy know, Mr. Oswalt has suffered from depression, but this, he said, was far worse. “Depression is more seductive,” he said. “Its tool is: ‘Wouldn’t it be way more comfortable to stay inside and not deal with people?’ Grief is an attack on life. It’s not a seducer. It’s an ambush or worse. It stands right out there and says: ‘The minute you try something, I’m waiting for you.’”