If Life Was Fair, I’d Be…
I once heard a bearded old man in a 12-step meeting share something in a deep-weathered voice that stuck to me like freshly chewed gum in matted hair.
There’s simply no way to forget it unless I cut out the part of my brain where it’s stored.
It’s one of those punchy little, slingshot phrases that can down a goliath. It’s something I tell my outpatient clients if I think they’re able to absorb its gravity and resilient enough to rebound from its impact.
“If life was fair, I’d be dead.”
Take a moment and let that one sink in.
We all — every single one of us (normies included) — at some point shake our fists to the sky with an angry scowl and curse our fate. We lament all the terrible things that “happened to us.”
If you’re like me, when I’m having a bad day, I will often automatically compose an intricate narrative that denies the laws of coincidence and channels my inner conspiracy-theorist to link all my daily inconveniences, social slights, work mishaps, petty frustrations and problems…and then I revel in twisted, ego-centric satisfaction that I was right.
“See. Just look at all this evidence. It’s like I said all along: the world is against me. Nothing’s…
