I don't suggest this for everyone, but after my live-in and I split up after four (horrible) years, I accepted a date. A week later.

Like I said, can't recommend the rebound thing every time, and never thought it would have worked for me, but in that case it did a really good job of exorcising a sucky relationship --- or, at least, proving that there are alternatives.

Except that the ex- went off the deep-end when it got out that I was dating. My power got turned off, many memberships canceled, the ex- seduced my best friend, etc. YMMV.)

rebound sex?

getting really drunk with friends?

going shopping?

burning their clothes and stuff in a garbage can?

ice cream.

: >

rebound sex always worked for me, but it's not for everybody.

For my last breakup, vodka shots and a rebound relationship (that has lasted 2 years, go figure). I recommend replacing "vodka shots" with "hanging out with friends and bitching about your ex-" (since you really only gettwo months, tops, to do it) and replacing "rebound sex" with "copious amounts of chocolate and trips to your favorite museum or zoo".

I'll third (fourth? fifth?) the rebound sex. Nothing better than knowing someone else finds you hot to get over the self esteem damage of a breakup.

Aw, mudpuppie, you're such a sweetie!

I have to say that the rebound sex thing isn't going to fly in my situation. Our breakup wasn't all hurtful and full of rejection (he just needs to figure some shit out, and I can't hang on while he's doing it), so my self-esteem is pretty good. Incidentally, we've been spening a lot of (platonic) time together, which has been nice. My heart just aches, y'know? Life seems overwhelming and makes me cry. Blisters on my tummy, a lump in my breast, too many bills, too much work...

Ice cream might be good. For the heart and the blisters.

long walks alone in the park, early in the morning if you're a morning person, if not, at dusk, the magic hour. then intelligent conversation -- not about love, though -- with friends who care about you and will be there for you always, going to the theatre and the movies (no sad stuff, though). great comedies from the Thirties and Forties, slapstick does miracles.

a little self-pity is permitted. a little whining, too.

some pampering -- spas, or really great haircuts at that expensive place you have a tendency to avoid because you don't think you're worth it (go instead, because you are worth it).

travel.
don't oversleep in the morning -- better to go to bed a little tired at night. work out. and remember that life manages to surprise you very often. sometimes the surprises are even good surprises

I have to say that the rebound sex thing isn't going to fly in my situation.

*once-lively thread suddendly becomes eerily silent*

*has sex with drink*
*sets fire to ice cream*
*shops for garbage cans*

I don't see the appeal.

Incidentally, we've been spening a lot of (platonic) time together, which has been nice. My heart just aches,

That may be part of your problem, to be honest. Spending time with him as just a friend will only remind you of what you no longer have.

It may help to actually spend a little time apart.

Yeah, I know, and usually that's true, but you've got to trust me on this one. No worries, we're getting enough time apart.

Walks are a good idea, matteo, and I'm planning on getting my hair cut this week...

And jonmc, that was really funny.

Nothing works. Nothing. Except time.

Of course, ymmv.

We forgot the burning-in-effigy thing....

What's worked for me:

Dive in:
Set aside a limited time for all out, full tilt cathartic grieving. Make sure you have some buddies who are prepared to receive incoherent blubbering phone calls at 2:30 am and let you cry when you need to and make you laugh for good measure. Get trashed a few times if you need to, red wine is particularly effective. Smoke ciggies if it suits. Cry. A lot. Listen to all of the saddest, sappiest music you can find while crying. A lot. Make a "Letters Never Sent" file. Write all of the sappy, drunken, maudlin missives that bubble up. Get pissed if that helps. Put them in the file. DO NOT SEND THEM. Eat all the ice cream you want, but eat one healthy meal a day. Spend the weekend in pajamas. Hell, order delivery and don't get out of bed. As much as possible do not call the boy.

This stage has rarely lasted a week for me, but I have little patience for moping and it's been the quickest way to burn self-pity and longing out of my veins.

Distract:
Laugh as much as possible. Spend time with good friends, watch funny movies (Happy TX, Drop Dead Gorgeous, Bring It On and Last Kiss Goodnight have all treated me well. Oh, and Sliding Doors for some reason.) Mix things up. Ease off of the drinks and smokes. Rely on your friends. Not a fan of rebound sex, but if it works for you.... This is when I usually deep clean my apartment and rearrange all the rooms while listening to Eddie Izzard, David Sedaris and "This American Life" archives. A trip to Vancouver, BC usually happens aboutt his time for me. Continue to avoid the boy as much as possible.

Rebuild:
If you don't already, make your bed when you get up. Everyday. It's a point of order that helps set a tone for the day, provides instant esthetic gratification and is a quiet bolster of self-esteem. Prepare good food with friends and share the meal together. Do all of those things that you avoided because you were in a relationship or that he didn't like. Get some plants, bitty ones, and grow those babies. (Seriously!) Get a kick ass haircut. Or buy a great pair of shoes. Or both. Take awesome baths. Go hiking, to the coast, to the Gorge. Enjoy being selfish with your time and energy because sooner than it seems, you'll be back in the relationship arena and perfecting the art of compromise all over again. Note: spending time with the boy at this point is usually warm but anti-climactic.

On preview: jokeefe, nothing but time may work, but how you use that time makes all the difference.

mudpuppie, your name doesn't happen to be Celia, does it? I'd swear you were an old friend of mine.

mudpuppie, your name doesn't happen to be Celia, does it? I'd swear you were an old friend of mine.

How old was Celia when you knew her? 'Cause I was kidnapped at 23 and reconditioned by a group of radical Southern vegetarian taxidermists. I can only attest to my post-kidnap life, and I'm pretty sure I'm not her.

I suggest you combine a selection of the above - get some icecream and put in on your blistered tummy. Next, get someone hot to lick it off as it melts. Then just see what happens.

you're so Tanya, mudpuppie : >

mudpuppie, Celia was oh-so-Southern in a wonderfully evil way. The things that woman could get away with saying in her Georgian accent was lengendary. She'd be about 40 now, so I guess not.

I highly recommend doing anything that will help you meet a new group of people. Take a class, volunteer, join a book club, etc. It keeps you busy and changes up the routine enough to help with the "everything reminds me of him" hurt.

Sorry you're going through this. Break-ups suck.

Get into bed. Sit but slouch down a bit. Place ice cream container on your belly. Eat contents of ice cream container.

Spoil/treat/pamper yourself with whatever makes you happy: a trip to a (day) spa, manicure/pedicure, sit on a beach, walk in the woods, read trashy novels, watch trashier movies, eat chocolate 'til you puke, take a class, spend time in a library/book store.

(((Specklet)))

*turns jonmc into ice cream*
*reconsiders*
*turns jonmc into a Baked Alaska*

Ohhh, I'm on fi-ya, baby!

(couldn't I at least be a rum baba?)

This is a bizarrely well-timed thread...

Jeebus, did the whole lot of you's guys break up this weekend?

Well, it was the middle of last week for me, but recent incidents sure make it feel like it was today.

mmm Baked Alaska. jonmc, I will forever associate you with food.

Wow, hugs all. That really blows - sorry to hear it.

Take a vacation by yourself, if you can. Do something thrilling/amazing/unexpected that you never thought you could do by yourself. Going to New Zealand for a couple of weeks after The Last And Most Heartbreaking Breakup of My Life a couple of years ago completely helped me switch gears. Nothing quite like an epiphany of one's own strength under the stars on a beach half a world away to start reclaiming your life. (But of course you needn't go all the way to New Zealand! A fun roadtrip for a weekend off the beaten path can work wonders. Take a journal and a camera and some great music, and just wander a bit.)

Seriously:

Gather up their clothes and or personal belongings into a pile. Smell them. You may consider touching yourself and/or humping the pile, but you may only consider it. For now.

Go out and obtain, gather together. steal or buy the following: A live chicken, 3 quarts of vodka or your preferred hooch, any Kenny G cd, two gallons of Jet-A grade fuel, markers, tape, scissors, and lots of candles.

Come home (if you actually had to go out and buy any of the above). Proceed to get drunk. Light candles. All over the place. Get the chicken drunk. Sing bawdy drunken sea chanteys with the chicken. Confuse the chicken.

Using the tape, scissors and markers build an altar like a junior-high science project gone horribly awry out of photos and personal items of ex. Bonus points for including real snippets of hair or fingernails from the ex and/or your own blood. Go nuts. Get gothic with it, but penalties will be deducted for using dried, blackened roses or bad poetry once given/recieved during the relationship. What're you, 15?

Get naked. Sacrifice the chicken at the altar. Drink it's blood, and paint strange hieroglyphics and sigils on yourself. Read the entrails for signs that it's not actually over. You're looking for alphabet pasta that says 'It's not over!'. Don ninja costume. Cook a mean chicken dinner, take it to the ex's place, place it steaming on the doorstep, knock, and run like hell. Observe ex wistfully from the bushes. But do not linger. Go home.

Go get the Kenny G CD. Make out with the ex's old pillow - but only go to first base! Ok, second base if you must. Smash the Kenny G CD, then burn it to elementary smoke particles with the Jet-A fuel. Kenny G sucks, yo! Put on some Godspeed You Black Emperor! or The Smiths. If you don't have any Smiths, put on some Morrisey, but if you don't have any Smiths and you have Morrisey, you've got bigger problems than we can deal with here. If so, go seduce local college radio DJ and steal their CDs. If they have any Kenny G, kill the DJ and burn the Kenny G CDs. Take all of their other CDs, but only the good ones.

Get blind girly-drink drunk. Curse at your cat. Confuse it with slight of hand tricks. Then curse at it some more. Shave off an eyebrow, or half of each. If you don't have eyebrows - from plucking them or from burning the Kenny G CD - then pencil in a scowling monobrow. Stalk in to the nearest Denny's and scare the Everlasting Love of Christ back in to the goth kids smoking in the corner. Stalk home. Swear at the bushes. Swear at your neighbor's cat. Pass out partially clothed half-in and half-out of your own doorway.

Wake up with a screeching hangover. Confuse your cat some more - cats like to be confused. Laugh - wincing if you must. Forget that anything unusual happened.

But whatever you do, don't cluck confused bemusements to yourself, because you just might turn into a lovelorn chicken. And there's nothing sadder in this universe than a chicken in love.

This is also a hangover remedy. Go figure. It's the only thing that works.

Smile.

No, seriously, paste a grin on your face, consciously keeping it in place. Whether you like it or not, it will start making you feel better.

If you need, lie down and smile, close your eyes. Keep smiling. You start getting these waves of good feeling coursing through your body, and soon enough you're on top of the world.

For real, the worst thing to do when you're sad is frown.

You guys rock.

loquacious, I'd be looking over my shoulder if I were you. Seems mudpuppie dunt take kindly to chicken jokes.

Uh oh. What'd I do now? It wasn't really meant to be a chicken joke but it ended up there.

loquacious, I'd be looking over my shoulder if I were you. Seems mudpuppie dunt take kindly to chicken jokes.

* forgets about chicken joke; suspects accent has been made fun of *

*runs*

I moved 2000 miles to live in a college town where im locally famous(sorta)...

I still talk her alot (once a day)...we are still good friends as she is the mother of my kittens.

I still hold on to the idea that once she has worked out her issues, back into her arms i might fall...deep down i know i should move on.

I've tried to have meaningless drunk sex with a stranger, but no one is up to par yet, unfortunately. And i've been moderating my alcohol consumption...

I recommend the DJ earworm song from matildabens last mechamix...or "For no One" from Revolver.

best of luck...