Really, the credits roll when I’m 21 years old. “If you made a film about my life, the biggest arc would be growing up in Essex and getting into television – that’s the journey. “Ruby Wax, who I basically stole from in every interview I ever did, said the problem is we live so long we keep having to come up with new things to do.” Leaning forward, Amstell’s arms waggle over the table to make his point. But just the mention of it now makes him clam up, lips sealed under a cartoon headshake, until I laugh and move on. It’s 10 years – to the day according to a story in the Metro that very morning – since Buzzcocks’ most famous moment, when Amstell, with a nerve and guile easier in your 20s, goaded Preston from the Ordinary Boys until he walked off the show. He physically cringes when asked whether he might return to TV presenting. “I’m happy, but if I don’t meditate, if I don’t jump around in the morning, do a bit of yoga, that despair will return.” However, it is a constant practice to clean up the mud that could get in the way of such joy.” He giggles, as punctuation to deflate the loftiness of therapy-speak. “Now my neutral state is one of peace and contentment. “I used to feel my neutral state was despair,” he says. It’s probably unsurprising that the height of Amstell’s fame – when he was, arguably, the funniest presenter on TV – collided with the height of his angst. ‘If I don’t meditate that despair will return’: Simon Amstell.

Read carnage by sarah bailey