Below, Ray Peacock explains why he decided to open up about his suicide attempt in his latest stand-up show.

When I started "writing" my presently touring show Here Comes Trouble, issues started presenting themselves thick and fast. ('Writing' was in quotes just now because I didn't write a thing for this show, I just remember stuff that happened and try and say it back as entertainingly as I can!)

The show is basically a collection of stories of me being a liability in life, of trouble-making antics and an exploration of why an adult man would choose (or indeed if it is even a choice) to behave in such an infantile manner so much of the time.

A couple of months before premiering Here Comes Trouble at the Edinburgh Fringe, I realised I was thinking about one thing in particular a lot, and that was something Dave Gorman said during - I believe - the Q&A section of his amazing Googlewhack Adventure show... which was that, if you took proper notice [of his show], you would see it wasn't actually the story of a pointless quest, but rather the story of a breakdown.

I looked over all my tales of mischief and realised that it was all too familiar, these weren't the actions of a sane man. In another time this would've been a freak show where we laughed at the maniac. Plus, there were parts of the story that I wasn't revealing on stage; all the audience were getting was the funny bits. It felt slightly irresponsible, that I was presenting a chunk of my life for entertainment and all they were hearing was the stuff essentially saying that a human being could behave in these ways and there would be no repercussions. But there had been. There had been awful, awful repercussions.

I can tell you exactly where I was when I decided to reappraise what I was doing in the show and open it up more than I had originally intended; it was at the stage door of Norden Farm Centre [in Maidenhead], right before I did a preview there. I tend to recall where I was when I realise something important, for example, I can tell you that I had the idea for the concept of Peacock & Gamble Emergency Broadcast whilst sat in a traffic jam by Heathrow Airport, and I remember the stage door at Norden Farm because it was there that I took a breath and said to my nearly girlfriend - apologetically - that I might need to talk about that bad thing that had happened earlier in the year. She didn't seem so keen, and to this day I'm not sure it sits so well with her. We were joined by the stage manager from the venue, who drew an intake of breath and said it was "dark shit" as he cottoned on to the conversation.

I didn't talk about it on stage that night at all, just carried on with how I'd already been performing the show, but in my head I was ripping it to shreds. I was in the strange situation of planning a complete rehash of a show whilst actually performing it, and everything I said I was thinking how it would never be said the same again. A shame really, because that preview was a belter and wasn't overrunning - it would transpire that it was the last time it ever did come in on time.

I went home and tried to work out how to include a suicide attempt in a comedy show. I'll admit that my first ideas were at best overdramatic and at worst exploitative, I was toying with the idea of grand statements and sudden blackouts and all of that sixth form drama nonsense, but I very soon realised that my strength with discussing mental illness has always been my blasé demeanour.

I strongly feel that the best way to discuss the topic is in the same way you would discuss similar life irritants, like traffic or Simon Cowell; that is with a shrug and occasional scowl. It's not the time for blackouts and emotional trickery. Besides which, I had an ace up my sleeve, in that I knew that the story was entirely true, fresh in my mind and - genuinely - funny.

I'm not regaling it here (sorry) as it's an important part of my show, and whilst I try and do the ethically correct thing with what I include on stage, I'm not above teasing you with it here in the hope that you will come see it to find out what happened.

Well, I say it was funny. At the development stage I knew it was funny to me. There's plenty of comedians who have found something funny before, but discovered that normal people really didn't, and this wasn't a case of simple re-writing, this was a case of making a traditionally taboo subject accessible. I'm not so far gone that I think it unreasonable that telling the story of attempting to end one's life may be considered slightly inappropriate in a comedy show; but it felt essential.

Other concerns came thick and fast, not least that, in order to tell the tale, I had to reveal the method of the attempt... and that was keeping me awake at night. I clearly don't want to be the person who gives a vulnerable person the nod as to a way of doing it, but after much soul searching I came to the conclusion that I was hardly giving away anything that couldn't be found within seconds on a Google search. I sincerely doubt that there's anyone in that desperate situation of wanting to end it all who just isn't doing so because they have no idea of how one would go about it.

The answer to all of my misgivings turned out to be realising the importance of explaining my own personal situation carefully so that audiences understood where I was at and the reasons I ended up at that point, and that was done with a touch of trickery by forewarning them right off the bat. I explain in the first few minutes of my show that it occasionally goes to dark places, and plead with them to not feel uncomfortable on my behalf. They're fine to feel uncomfortable, but just not for me. By the time the topic comes round in the show they're prepped and primed.

I can't even begin to tell you the relief I felt when the first audience that saw that bit laughed. Even now, fifty performances in and counting, I still have nerves on stage that the laugh won't come. It's not happened yet, but if you want to fuck me up then come to the show and don't laugh at it - I haven't got a contingency plan for that eventuality so that could be a bit of fun awkwardness. (It would be even more awkward in my tour show as this section is right before the interval - which defies all logic and makes me laugh every single night. What sort of professional comedian ends the first half on a suicide attempt? That would be me! And it works as a cliff-hanger, as they come back in the second half to see if I managed it!)

Even after that routine had worked on stage, I still convinced myself it needed more and put together an intro for it that has made every comedian I've ever told it to howl, but not one member of the watching public. I would explain to the audience that this next bit is a bit dark and that I'd decided to ease them into it with a joke:

ME: Knock knock
AUDIENCE: Who's there?
ME: Suicide attempt.
AUDIENCE: Suicide attempt who?
ME: Me!

Never worked once in the six times I tried it. I'll bring it back should I ever do An Audience With Ray Peacock to my peers but for now it is safely out of harm's way. To be honest the balance - I think - is right, and [talking about the suicide attempt] is the one bit of my show that I occasionally feel a bit smug about, the idea that I can get laughs from such a dark, horrible moment of my life. Fate helped in that it provided me with a funny failure that warranted re-telling in a comedic way; there have been other times that weren't funny - but I realise I'm lucky to have got one. Really lucky.

Ray Peacock is touring 'Here Comes Trouble' which includes a run at the Soho Theatre from 2-4th April. More info and tickets available at www.raypeacock.co.uk