Ugh, heartache is literally painful. I’m sorry you are going through that.

For me, getting iver someone has been a multi-pronged approach.

1. Accept that I’m going to feel grief for a while…at least a few months. That’s okay and normal. Don’t fight it, don’t get mad at it. Just notice it and ride it out. Your brain has to severe the neural networks that were dedicated to him, while rebuilding new ones. This is a process that takes a while.

2. Start connecting with friends that are healthy. They can be a nice source of validation, connection, and support.

3. Work on a new project to have a focus. This can help in those moments where I’m sitting around ruminating with nothing to do or no desire to do anything. Even if I’m ruminating while doing the project, at least I’ll something to show for it when it’s over.

4. Start a new hobby to define myself apart from the relationship. I’m going to be a new person.

5. When ready, start throwing out all of their stuff. I even get rid of gifts. If it reminds me of then when I look at it, it’s gone.

Things will get easier as you stop thinking about them slowly over the next dew weeks to months. Eventually, they become someone that you used to know with no real meaning other than the lessons you learned from that experience.

Not gonna sugarcoat it – this will suck for a long time. For me it was friends, hookups and time that helped.

Friends let me forget for the time we hung out but also listened and just hugged me when I cried.

Hookups (and I realise this sounds vapid as shit) made me feel like I am still wanted and attractive.

Time made the thought of them sting less.

This will smost likely stick with you, but it’s going to be okay. It’s not going to hurt this badly forever. You will think of it less and less frequently. But you will have that scar. And that’s okay, I think.

Time is unfortunately the best medicine. Just take it one day at a time. Don’t stay in contact with them. Reach out to your friends and try to fill your time spending time with them.

Main thing is to keep yourself distracted. The ruminating will come, but right now you need to heal. I wasn’t able to clearly reflect on my ex and our relationship for easily over a year or so later.

Allow yourself to feel and process your emotions. Take care of yourself. Eat well and stay hydrated, do whatever exercise and focus on yourself and your goals. Perhaps travel. Live for you and you will find someone else without looking.

Tryna deal with it right now, going back to the bar where I met my ex

Will update in like 2 hrs

Edit: litterally forgot. Didn’t see him, it was lame anyways

Went on a hike and just sat and looked over a lake for some time. I then realized I was extremely happy that I got to know her, but also that she told what she felt. I also think I got proud of myself, I never thought I would meet some one at all but now I knew it was possible

Treating it like being sick (like a cold) helps me. That way I justify taking it slow. It’s something that will pass and it’s totally normal to feel really bad. It will probably be better soon but I need a lot of rest/self-care.

It’s hard to admit, but I’m not healthy in that regard. I postpone the break-up so that time gives an opportunity to fix things, and when that fails I jump into another relationship right away, and not in a “using people to distract me from my pain” way but in a “falling in love with people who show me empathy and care, and who I imagine are a good fit without giving enough time to consider it thoroughly” way. Currently in the first step, waiting, wishing.

I have no advice. I can only say I am sorry you are grieving.

Edit: Grammar.

Go gym

I played a lot of halo, smoked a lot of weed, lost a tonne of weight.

tbh wasn’t really healthy. the best remedy is getting yourself out there. it’s okay to be sad and reclusive for a bit but dont make it permanent

Definitely don’t do what I do, which is to shut down entirely, pretend it doesn’t bother you, and completely close the door on any future relationships until you’ve gotten so used to being alone that you probably couldn’t allow another person in even if you wanted to. Super healthy stuff! Honestly, being able to express that you’re sad and hurt is good. It hurts and it can feel unbearable, but it means you’re still feeling things. The last time I coped in a healthy way, I wanted to wallow in bed (and I did, some) but I made myself get up and do small things I enjoyed. Nothing big that required a lot of effort, just things like going to get lunch with my mom or taking a walk with a friend. It was distracting enough to ease the pain, and showed that my whole life wasn’t over because of a break up. The only other thing that helped was time.

The healthiest way I’ve ever dealt with heartbreak and grief is by putting physical energy into something. Building stone walkway, planting a garden, working out, etc.

Being able to focus on something else will help you from becoming physically and emotionally overwhelmed. Peace, understanding and equilibrium will come with time, the immediate aftermath is the time to move and do something so you don’t get consumed by your feelings.

It’s always okay to cry. People I never thought would understand have supported me.

OK this is gonna be a long one. And it’s not even mine. The original point of what I’m about to post was about losing loved ones to death, but in my lowest parts of dealing with my divorce I found these words very helpful. One of the few good things to come out of reddit. Credit to reddit user GSnow. Here goes.

Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter”. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.

As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

• /u/GSnow

Don’t even get in a relationship.

I have to go now crying to sleep from loneliness.

Lemon Italian Ice helps me feel better when I’m upset about something