I suspect that, for many people, the sadness, anxiety, and confusion of life are problems to be solved, but for people who work in (pardon this hollow term!) "art," the pains of life are fuels that drive (pardon this one!) "creativity."
Experience, and reflection upon experience, are what allow people to write, draw, compose, dance, build. Others, uncompelled to do such things, emphasize recovery, closure, "moving on," but these healthy responses would harmfully deprive "creative" people of the forces that drive their work.
This is the paradox of mental pain: most of us, quite understandably, hate pain of the private skull, steer away from it however we can, and work to overcome it when it strikes, but for others, mental pain is what makes work necessary. Without broken hearts and minds, would we have the arts at all?
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