Humour and Metaphor in Therapy and Life
As a psychologist and a lover of comedy, I regularly draw on both humour and metaphor. Humour isn’t just about making people laugh. Whether I am working with clients, chatting with friends, or simply reflecting on life, I find that humour and metaphors provide a way to communicate and reframe difficult or complex experiences.
Reductio ad absurdum is one such technique that reduces an idea to the point of absurdity to expose its flaws. This appears in works like Catch-22, where a combat pilot can only avoid flying missions by being declared medically insane — but trying to avoid flying proves he’s sane, so he has to keep flying. It’s also used in comedies like Monty Python’s Life of Brian, which uses satire to explore and critique big social issues, authorities, and institutions.
In therapy, humour and metaphor can serve as cognitive bridges — connecting abstract psychological concepts with everyday lived experiences. Here are a few examples I have found helpful:
Realising you’re neurodivergent is like a movie plot twist
It’s like discovering the twist in a movie and rewatching it with that knowledge. Wait — it’s so obvious! Bruce Willis was dead the whole time!
When someone discovers they’re neurodivergent later in life, it often leads to profound re-evaluation. Suddenly, past experiences make a different kind of sense. This metaphor works because it captures that “aha” feeling — the shock, the clarity, and the way everything seems to click into place. Reassessing your life with the new understanding of your neurotype can feel akin to rewatching a movie after the twist is revealed: the plot hasn’t changed, but you can now comprehend it in a different and more complete way.
Depression is a like wearing an invisible weighted vest.
“It can’t be seen, but it’s heavy. Everything is just a little bit harder. With treatment (or support), you can slowly take off some of the weights.”
This metaphor — paraphrased from comedian Neal Brennan’s 3 Mics —captures the reality of living with many invisible conditions, from mental health concerns, to neurodevelopmental differences, or disabilities. It acknowledges that just because something isn’t directly observable, doesn’t mean it isn’t real — or heavy! I love this metaphor because it is rooted in lived experience and can express complex experiences in a way that is efficient and deeply resonant. That’s the power of metaphor — and why it’s such a valuable tool in therapy.
“My gym is right across the road from my house. I still can’t get there”
I offer this last quote from Jim Gaffigan (paraphrased), from his standup special Mr Universe. I love this joke for its simplicity, relatability and efficiency in communicating a universal experience. I often say, “the simplest things are often the hardest” to try and communicate this same idea. Getting to the gym is easy – in theory. In practice, successfully attending the gym is influenced by a range of factors (sleep, mood, pain levels) and requires overcoming countless other barriers — battling with your inner critic, resisting the comfort of your warm bed or cuddly cat, or pushing through physical or emotional pain. This kind of humour helps us to approach our struggles with self-compassion and acknowledges the reality of the barriers we face without judgment.
Why this matters
Humour and metaphor allow us to talk about complex and difficult experiences in ways that feel real and approachable. They offer relief, insight, and – importantly – connection. Whether we’re talking about mental health, disability, or other daily challenges, these tools can help us understand ourselves and each other a little better and remind us that we are not alone in our struggles. I hope these metaphors can offer you a little clarity, laughter, or lightness.