From the depths of the ocean, I had to come up for air. I was drowning, and a part of me wanted that to happen, to drown. I wanted it all to end – the pain, the suffering, the limbo, the sadness, the tears, the loneliness. I had no strength left in me; I couldn't fight what I was feeling.
But... there was a little glimmer, that determination that had always defined my character – the one that helped me complete my degrees, the one that was with me when I moved to different countries, the one I used when I woke up at 5 AM to go to the gym. There was still a little fight left in me, and, above all, there was faith.
I had faith in myself, in the process, and in God. I surrendered. I didn't need to fight hard; surrendering was a big part of this journey. All I needed to do was take care of myself and trust that everything would work out.
My grief began the day I had to make the most painful decision I've ever made – to walk away from the person I deeply loved. It was the right decision, and I don't regret making it, but I had to forgive myself for not being able to understand what led to that, for not being able to repair what was breaking before it was too late. Forgiving myself for that has been a long process, but it helped me discover who I am.
The grieving process for losing 'my person,' the love of my life, began minutes after our last conversation, but it wasn't until I found myself on the floor, unable to get up, unable to stop crying and having a panic attack, that's when I fully realized the gravity of my grief – the heaviness of grief. The pain was so intense, so severe, so overwhelming; I just wanted it to stop, and I couldn't make it stop. The power of my emotions was so intense that it took hold of me. I wasn't in control – of my thoughts, my emotions, my life. I hit rock bottom.
Trying to rationalise such a contradiction was impossible – how can two people who love each other that much be walking away from each other? It still haunts me.
I began documenting my thoughts from the darkest part of my breakup. I spoke my feelings out loud to a video recorder at times. I journaled. I wrote countless emails to him without ever intending to send them. I started to eat right, though I could manage very little at first because my stomach was so closed off. But it got better, and eventually, I even added treats at the end of the day – like ice cream. I noticed myself smiling more, first a bit forced, then it occurred naturally. My alarm went off at 5 AM every Monday through Friday, and I exercised. I ran on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I joined a group fitness class on Tuesdays (HIIT) and Thursdays (weight training). I set a goal for myself – to run a half marathon – which kept me motivated, and my mind stayed busy planning how to achieve it.
I pushed myself hard, both physically and mentally, and soon I started to see changes. My physical appearance began to change, and with it, my self-confidence increased. My focus at work returned, and I went back to enjoying what I do.
I meditated daily, observing my thoughts, sometimes engaging with them with compassion, accepting them, knowing that I am not my thoughts. I made sure my thoughts were filtered, only engaging with positive, pleasant, and useful thoughts. Incoming thoughts are hard to control, but I was determined to make my head a good place to be.
I talked to God. Sometimes I talked to God during meditation. Each meditation session started with a list of things I was grateful for, followed by three intentions. And even though not once was he a part of this, I gave myself compassion for that. I still loved him. It was always in my heart, not my head. It was okay to still love him. I gave myself permission to love him. That was never going to end. After my intentions, I tried to stay present while meditating by focusing on my breathing or external sounds. If a thought came up, I acknowledged it and then returned to my breathing. I ended each session by saying amen and making the sign of the cross – the Catholic in me.
I practiced breathing methods to keep my anxiety in check – the 4-4-4-4 method, the Wim Hof method, the in-and-out method.
I watched movies and played golf, going to the driving range alone with my headphones in, hitting balls, and having a break in between.
I stayed away from alcohol and kept my conversations with friends in check; I couldn't hear them saying I should get over it or that he was not good for me. I needed to hear my own opinions without cloudiness and judgments. I wanted to get in touch with my intuition and trust myself. I needed to hear my own opinions about what had happened between him and me, find my forgiveness, and learn my lessons.
This is my healing journal, the story of my heartache, my relationships, and my life. It includes the memories I shared with him and with others. It offers insight into my very personal world. It's crazy, sometimes sad, and a lot of the time fun. There are pathetic stories, fun stories, and sad stories. You might resonate with some. I will share tips that helped me, books I read, and movies that got me through difficult times. I will share my knowledge about how I began to heal and discover myself to become happier. It's an ongoing journey of self-love, self-understanding, and self-care fueled by grief, a journey I will continue. I hope you find solace in reading my content, and that it helps you emerge from your grief and discover the awesome person you truly are. Click on my blog to read more.
