[imperfect_cupcake]

Lorelei, I also wanted to say that I understand deep and debilitating heart break. I have a shit tonne of empathy for it. I was so devistated I stopped eating for five weeks. I only started eating again because I wound up with unbelievably painful gastritis and my friend did so much for me to help me to eat again. They took me to pubs where there were meat raffles, the best fish and chips in the city, made me smoothies... Finally one won a meat raffle and said "I will let you pick what meat if you cook it for me and eat it with me" that did it, it started me eating again.

I got put on a tranquilizer because I was shaking all the time and I couldn't sleep. I got written off work for three weeks. I cried everywhere. Even on my bike.

Finally, I made a friend who helped pull me out of it. Her wife ran off to find herself in other people's vaginas. We were mostly friends but also had sex because we understood each other's devistation and need of comfort. Plus the sexual chemistry was through the roof. Good sex helped me move forward, quite a bit. But she was just as much of a fucked up mess as I was, so my caring kicked in and through caring for her - making her food so she'd eat, reading to her so she'd fall asleep, holding her hand while she went through wracks and wracks of tears when she'd so painfully miss her wife (which I deeply understood as I still would miss mine)... It helped pull me out of depression.

It didn't help when she ran off with an aquaintance of mine and got married. But that, I knew for certain, was the best for both of us as she had active addiction problems. I tend to have ***~amazing~** chemistry with those who do. Which is why I don't trust chemistry alone.

I started making decisions for myself that didn't hurt. I think that was the very first start of knowing I was starting to get better. But because my exwife and I did *everything* together - we were each other's best friend - I had nothing anymore that had been just mine. So I had to start somewhere that didn't bring wrackingly painful memories. I found a pond we had never gone to, one she'd not likely go to, and started going there. I found a pub she didn't frequent and went there for quiz nights with a friend.

I started going to counselling- which she had refused to do when her dad died. I started going to the Buddhist temple free meditation nights to help with my depression and agony. The Lama was always laughing and telling funny stories. He was very kind to me and gave me very good advice. I signed up for a very helpful meditation style yoga at the temple.

I joined a Dojo, a Japanese temple, so that I had another place to teach me meditation a second day of the week.

I started having panick attacks when I was alone in the house. Luckily, a friend of mine needed a place to move into and I rented her the room as I was drowning in debt. It was good to have company.

I quit my job. I worked from home. I eventually moved home to Canada a year after I kicked her out (she wanted us to stay living together while she started seeing someone new. NOPE).

It's been a long, long journey to regain some kind of grounding. And to recover. There was a big set back for a bit when I signed the divorce papers. Everyone told me to expect it, but I thought they would be wrong. They weren't. Signing them hurt. A lot. I didn't expect that.

My exwife called me and told me she was pregnant. Just to let me know so I didn't find out through someone else. That was shocking. I didn't expect that either. On the same day, the friend I had that ran off with an aquaintance... I got a call from a mutual friend to just let me know she was getting married in Hawaii. My reaction was to accept the first date someone offered me after swearing off dating for 8 months. That was a disaster. I dated someone briefly, who was unbelievably ill suited, because I didn't want to be the one headed to single life while my exes found happiness with others.

Needless to say the dating didn't last long. And I stayed single. I tried a couple more times and each time the person wound up being a drunk/pot head or very anxious and controlling.

So I decided to just let go of it. And be that "on my own, possibly from now on" that we are all supposed to fear. Tbh, it's the most gentle, peaceful, kind, and self loving time I've had in my life since I made that decision.

What I am saying with this massive eye bleeding story is, it's not a straight line. It will be two steps onward and one step back with sometimes four steps back. Different things will help. Others will hinder. I had a bona fide nervous break down from mine. I had nervous exhaustion. I knew I needed help to get through it. I kept a blog. I talked to people. I went for counselling. I went to the doctor and spilled my guts. He made me come in one a week for check ups. I took up meditation to help with the depression. I started taking massage classes and loved them.

How long did it take to not be in agony from minute to minute? A while. I learned to distract myself. It took a few months to do that. I had stress enduced ADD. I was unable to watch more than 20 minutes of a film and I couldn't read anymore (I was a huge reader, often had more than two books on the go). Last month I was able to start a novel. That's a big deal to me.

It took about... Three months before I could watch a film without pausing it and getting up and having to do something else because I couldn't focus. Which was nice. I'm a huge film buff.

Somethings will take longer than others to come back to you. Find new things. Don't avoid pain, you can't. I'm sure you've noticed. But distractions help from being swallowed by them all day long. Even if the distraction only lasts five minutes. That's why I needed mediation - I needed to escape the pain my mind kept reliving over and over. I needed just 30 minutes of rest in my head.

I know this is long. But I hope there are things in this that may strike a chord. I don't envy you. It's one of the hardest things I have delt with in my adult life. I've cried on my bike, on buses, in the grocery store, curled up and hiding in my closet, on the floor in front of my oven with the door open... Everywhere. Till I cried out about a year later. I almost never cry anymore, it's like my tear ducts are broke. I've cried maybe twice in the last three years.

I would never want to go through that again. Love your friends, and keep them close.