Well, when your life is just one more chunk in the three million year shitstorm that is human history, you get four choices.

You can spend your free time moping in front of the TV, muttering under your breath.

You can go to museums and read about inspiring people who had it worse than you. Now that might inspire you, in which case you're one of the lucky few and probably a person of courage and character already. Or it might make you feel better about your own life, but that's schadenfreude and more than a little suss. Most likely, though, it'll just make you feel even more inadequate, because you know you'll never live up to those people.

You can be creative, write, paint, knit, whatever, and forget about everything for a bit. But you have to have the talent or the compulsion.

Or you can, as some do, attend a convention a couple of times a year. There you can dress up as your favourite alien/wizard/mythical being and for a few hours, forget your life is shit.

Most folk take option one, so the option four lot are, I think, a trifle less hopeless than most!