Indeed
In all seriousness though, I believe we are part of a necessary process of the human species or, more broadly, life itself becoming aware of its own dyfunction. You can view this in terms of evolutionary biology, collective psychology or even, if you’re that way inclined (I have my moments) in spiritual terms.
I would never say we’re lucky, but using one of these frameworks we can at least look on our experiences as meaningful. It’s not just random bad luck, I mean, no, obviously it is that, but it’s also a part of something bigger: an integral process of life, that of learning and adaptation.
In his book ‘Swamplands of the Soul’, Jungian psychoanalyst James Hollis argues that while few people can ever hope to achieve happy lives, it’s at least possible to aim for meaningful lives; in my stronger moments, I feel a sense of awe and even a certain pride at how much suffering I’ve been able to bear and how it has deepened my awareness to a level unknown to many whose lives are less afflicted. Of course, much of the time I would still rather be a physically and mentally healthy naif running around sticking my dick in every hole, but as I intimated above, people like this are bound to get smacked in the face eventually.