Oh God, the biggest cliché of all. Over the past few months I've read a hundred articles about dealing with loss, change and people leaving. These are the things that so far have proven useful:
1. Feel all the things. Don't hold back. If you need to cry every day for five weeks, do it. Get it out your system and acknowledge everything that's going on in your mind. You owe it to yourself to be honest (especially if he wasn't honest with you.)
2. Eat what you want, do what you want. Fuck it. Your life and your body belong to you. And you can spend your time doing whatever YOU choose to do. If you want to stay in bed for three days, do it. If you want to drink gin every day, do it. If you want to listen to Beyoncé and dance around in your pants, do it. There are no rules. This evening I drank champagne and ate a scone slathered in cream and jam, just because I bloody well could.
3. Try to brush your hair, wash your face and brush your teeth every day. This step is much trickier than it sounds... I'm genuinely sorry for anyone who was within view of me December through to February. I hummed.
4. Find other reasons to get up in the morning. I literally used to message or call my ex first thing in the morning and last thing at night. It was how I framed my days for the last six years, and obviously when that initially vanished I was terrified. Now I try and meditate early in the day to ground myself. It doesn't always work, but it's good to try. If you're at rock bottom the only way is up. I haven't quite mastered the art of switching off in the evenings yet, but I'm getting there. In the mean time 3am can be for writing, planning adventures and watching crap TV. Who needs sleep anyway?
5. Sleep.You need the downtime without that anxious chatter in your brain to recover and feel strong again. Even if that means you need to have a nap every day when you get home from work, do it.
6. Explore. On the days when you're feeling brave enough, go on adventures. Visit the seaside. Go to your happy place. I've been following my spontaneity which has so far resulted in trips booked to Berlin, Bali and Brighton and who knows where beyond... I'm trying to let my instincts guide me which is fun.
7. Be yourself. Do things that remind you of the person you were before you met the arse who broke your heart. For me that means writing and creating stuff. You suddenly realise when you find yourself coming out of a relationship how much you bent and changed to be with the other person. Only in subtle ways perhaps, but undoubtedly so. I'm fully embracing every inch of me. And I bloody love it.
8. Run. Move. Swim. Do something physical to channel all that hate and anger that fills every inch of your body. It's like fire in your belly, and if you don't burn it out it'll only grow and manifest in ugly ways.
9. Let other people in. Especially your Mum. Let her look after you. You're feeling vulnerable and you need someone to remind you to leave the house, or just hold you until it hurts less. My Mum has text or called me every day for the last three months to tell me she loves me and to reassure me. Through being alone I've found the capacity to let other people closer into my life. It's no exaggeration to say that my friends and family have been my lifeline. I've put more energy into those relationships and in return I've had a lot of laughs, delicious food and bottomless glasses of wine. And spooning your best friend is just as good (if not better) than spooning your boyfriend.
10. Meditate. Breathe. Just be. You'll be spending a lot of time reminiscing about the past, and day dreaming about the future you'll no longer have together that you've spent years dreaming up. So it's important to remember to be truly present and acknowledge what's currently physically happening around you.
11. Write him letters: Angry letters. Sad letters smudged with tears. Hopeful letters dreaming of the better days. Tell him what for, in the hope that it will make him feel bad about the dumb choices he made. Say all you need to say and then keep them. I wrote about 30 letters and only sent one —the best one— where I felt valid, and said all I needed to say and nothing more. It doesn't matter that he won't read them. But it will help you feel heard and get those ideas out of your head and onto paper. You'll need that brain space for doing really cool independent lady things very soon.
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