Why I’m

And how experiencing loss has been one of the greatest triggers for accepting happiness into my life.

It’s an age old story. An awful life event, which I would never wish to befall me, happens to someone, yet the ‘victim’ expresses gratitude for that event’s presence in their life. The amputee, murder survivor, cancer patient, they all look back on their experiences and express gratitude for what happened to them.

God damn hippy snowflakes, the lot of them. They were just scared of telling the honest truth — that bad things in life suck. Or so I thought.

I felt incredulous at these stories, because I could not understand how these people were grateful. I thought they said it because they had to, as if gratitude was their script; a trite, insincere line of delusional acceptance in the face of despair. What else can they say? “It’s a bit shit, really”. Great.

Complaining about life doesn’t inspire people, but positivity does. Therefore positive stories attract people and negative bitching alienates people. That’s why stories where someone gripes about losing a leg are unpopular, because nobody is interested in someone who sits there, wallowing in self-pity.

Good old self-pity, it’s like a warm blanket to cosset ourselves from the fearsome tribulations of life. I’ll…