Fuck, that hurts. An anti - breakup guide for heartbreak
Words: Izzy Stokes @isabellarosemari
In November I got brutally dumped, as in advice and love column heights of depressing, and what made it worse was that instead of time healing the pain, time decided to heighten my brooding trauma as several drawn out dramas overlapped during a two month period.
I was left emotionally ransacked, feeling X Factor levels of rejection, with several new complexes in relation to my self-image. This is not a self-help piece because I’m fucking far off from being gravy, but more a collection of anecdotal lessons I have learnt through trial, error, and a mild substance abuse problem.
So behold, shit not to do when you breakup but you almost certainly will do because sad, duh:
Agreeing to go no contact, but calling them every time you have one drink (so often) – It’s good to start a list with the most obvious fuck ups first, and this is a total classic, young or old, everyone loves a drunk dial, except when you wake up the next morning with a “Don’t contact me again, I’ve moved on” text, and a new found sense of self sabotage.
Sleeping with the first person that gives you one crumb of validation – we get it, you got burnt (I got burnt) you’ve been watching Gossip Girl back to back for two weeks now, your eyes are gross and puffy at all points of the day and you can’t even get through a meal without crying, so of course, your (idiot) friend suggests that you download hinge/bumble, or the cesspit of dating, Tinder. You, being a naïve 21 year old who has never dated in their life, blindly agree, resulting with you stumbling out of some softboi’s shared flat at 1am with some kind of bodily fluid in your hair, all because he said that you would be a great muse. Just don’t do it. Or at least do it with a friend, so you can both laugh at the stupidity of the situation afterwards.
Fucking your ex – You told your friends you wanted ‘closure’, that it just ‘didn’t feel right’ not saying goodbye. Put on your clown makeup now because you know damn straight that you are boo boo the fool for these levels of denial. This is a person you loved, you wanted to fuck them again because they know what you like in bed, and you are fucking lonely. See above points for context:
Neglecting all responsibilities and lying in a pit of your own filth for several weeks/months – Now, everyone needs a mourning period, maybe some people even need to hold a funeral for their love lost, but unfortunately the world keeps spinning, as do your deadlines, your landlords rent requirement, and your pet cat that you haven’t fed in 3 days. The fun part about ignoring all responsibilities and being a snivelling mess that walks around the house in ghost cosplay, is that when you inevitably realise it isn’t helping you, the looming pressure of mounting to-do lists will send you straight back into the downwards spiral baaaybe.
Taking up residencies in several different bars until you are puking pure ethanol every other morning – you know what’s fun? Healing from emotional pain by engaging in healthy and loving activities with family and friends. You know what’s not fun, but seems very fun at the time? Getting absolutely hammered day in and day out. Who doesn’t want to forget their problems? Who doesn’t want to make out with a 45 year old punk? Who doesn’t want to embarrass themselves consistently in the presence of both strangers and friends? You’d be an idiot to not want this lifestyle, especially when you wake up £80 poorer, with some awful person in your bed, and a disgusting need to do it all over again the next day. Know when the fun stops, like those betting shop adverts always bang on about.
REBOUNDING – Serotonin levels are desperately low, you miss your significant other who is giving you zero signs of hope for an incredibly romantic and sudden rekindling of your love; but you know what you can do? Project all of these aimless feelings on to some guy™, preferably some cookie cutter person in a band, or with a shitty t-shirt design start up, or with a half hearted modelling career. The key is to find someone with an inflated sense of self, so you can focus all your energy in to feeding their massive fucking ego, and then when shit hits the fan and you decide to ghost each other, you can use this person as material for your next passive aggressive Instagram post! Also, fun fact: You know what’s worse than one break up? Two fucking break ups, so keep that in mind.
Validation, Queen – Right so you’ve uploaded at least 5 stories by 11am on a Tuesday morning, a mixture of artfully chosen songs that invoke both nostalgia and an inflated sense of self in you, some memes that are both culturally relevant and depression fuelled, and an outfit picture so everyone knows that you’re hot shit with great taste. You then spend the next two hours checking your phone to see if the ‘important ones’ have checked your story, eg: your ex, that person from hinge, and random Instagram pen pal /crush. To your horror, they all have, but literally not one of them has replied to your story. The Dopamine fix you desperately crave now seems impossible. So you do what any responsible, self loving, adult would do, and post a overly posed and edited selfie on your feed, as a last ditch attempt to fish for some affection online. The alternative version of this is flexing at every given moment on insta to show your ex that you’re just doing SO WELL!! Without them in your life. Another fun extra to this is that you will look back on your archived stories in a year from now and cringe to fucking death.
Spending all your money on a ‘new you’ – No that yoga retreat in Bali will not eradicate the fact that you have felt desperately empty and vapid since the breakup, nor will spending half your wage in some fast fashion hell hole, this is also a terrible time to get a ‘new look’ for yourself. You have always hated fringes, that’s not about to change, read: treats are good. Debt is not.
Emotionally burdening your friends for several months until they literally hate you – There’s only so many times a friend can tell you that “you deserve so much more” or that “This is the right thing for you now” until it becomes total bullshit and they might fantasise about hitting you with a large, heavy object, your word vomit has become too much for their tiny, loving, ears. They desperately want you to be happy and healthy, but cannot hear you use the phrases “I just don’t understand what they have that I don’t” or “but they said they saw a future with me” without somewhat imploding inside. Give your friends a break, see a therapist. Mulling over the breakup consistently keeps the memory of them alive, metaphorically kill the bitch.
The bottom line is that, breakups are hard, they are one of the most painful forms of growth, and will definitely put you out of touch for at least a couple of months. Accepting that you’re going to make some terrible choices during this phase is part of the healing process. It’s okay to not be perfect 100% of the time, sometimes you have to be a messy bitch in order to thrive further down the line. As long as you keep yourself supported, and stay aware of your fuck ups, then go and have some good clean fun. You deserve it.