So you think the first weekend after a major breakup will be the worst? Wait for the second one. By the second weekend, the numbness and shock has worn off and you are left with the empty space and a whole lot of nothing to do. It's been nine days since he and I broke up now. And if I'm completely honest with myself, no amount of keeping busy and positive and chin up can mask how much I miss him every second of every day.
Of course, that's normal. Ever noticed how keen people are to tell you how normal your feelings are? If I flew into a violent rage and ran across the street to the construction worker and snatched the jackhammer out of his hands and started beating the ground and crying to the heavens (and I so desperately want to because the noise is driving me
insane), I'm quite sure someone would put their arm around me, lead me tenderly back home, whispering, 'She's just had a rough week. A break up, you understand.' And then with a sorrowful smile and maybe a wink, the construction worker will nod sagely and whisper back, 'Well, it's normal to feel like that then. Rather get it all out.'
What? No, lovely people, it is not normal behaviour. It's sheer craziness. And breakups make you dip into the crazy pot a little bit, I should know. So I decided I would handle this one a little bit differently. It's been a while since the gut-wrenching horror of my previous break up and I had forgotten how the hideousness of it can send you to a place where you question your self-worth, your value as a woman, your place in the world and your future. But, of course, you know it is really and truly not you – it really, really is actually
him and all
his unresolved, male stuff. As I keep telling myself.
I decided this time I would get hand-holding help. My wonderful and wise girlfriends always play that role so well, but this time, I think a professional perspective may be useful. So I deployed the Google-ator and found a shrink practice that seemed level. I called and was quite surprised when they felt the need to get me in to see someone as soon as possible – something in my voice maybe? Those tears that are still choked at the back of my throat threatening to erupt at any moment? Especially the moments in public? Well, it must have been something and so, with a whole lot of scariness and just a little bit of hope, I went to see My Therapist yesterday in a bold attempt not to repeat the mistakes of breakups past.
And, we chatted. About me, which is always fun. She nodded and smiled gently and told me my feelings were normal. I almost cried a few times. I could have, it wouldn't have been that embarrassing. I felt sad that I was proactively taking steps to let him go, even though I really didn't want to. She told me this was normal. And you know, despite all my cynicism, I did feel as if it was quite normal – terrible, gutting and heart-wrenchingly sad, but absolutely normal.
Now I just need to get through this weekend somehow, with nothing much to do but cry. I have no idea how I am going to make it.
Week 2: Cry me a river
Week 3: The angry phase
Week 4: Something begins to shift
Week 5: Happy birthday to me
Week 6: More than 21 days