The socks jock breakup has been an emotional shit show for me. Immediately after the breakup, I could not think about it or talk about it without the waterworks flowing. My platonic angel friend came over and I just could not contain it. I found relief in my rants of confusion to other people, and I found relief in my writing.
Having a family member who is emotionally stable staying with me has been wonderful, and has helped me shift the focus on myself. I got massages, spa treatments, went to yoga, engaged in shopping therapy and tried to surround myself with people who cared about me as much as possible. I felt instant relief, however it didn’t help me with my subconscious thoughts on the breakup.
It was like I was grieving in my dreams and going through distress and distress coping behaviours in my sleep as well. I was used to night time conversations with socks jock before bed and falling asleep with the feeling of security, often times smiling as I drifted off into my fantasy. This sudden change in my reality set a strange feeling into my dreams where even when I cannot remember my dreams, I woke up feeling a sense of loss. I woke up at odd hours of the night too. I understand that it is supposed to be normal to go through this after a breakup.
I’ll have good days and bad days, and I am relying heavily on my creative writing outlet as a way to find meaning in my thoughts. My recent blog about vacation love not being real has been a realization in a long string of rants inside my head that has been structured through writing. As I am writing this I am going through a bad day, Valentine’s day to be specific. This idea that not being in contact with him would allow him to realize that I am an important part of his life and that he wants me back, and that he cannot have me just as a friend. I held onto this string of hope that maybe he’ll be lonely on a day that was meant for love and would reach out to me. Of course, the rational part of me knew that the issues are deeper than that and this would never happen, but subconsciously I’ve been holding on to it. I’ve also refused to throw out any of his stuff, and made a personal agreement with myself that I would hold out on communication with him until after Valentine’s day.
Now, of course when he hasn’t reached out to me my entire self is consumed in self-pity. It’s rather sad, and I have no control over these irrational ideas and after all maybe the idea has helped me get through the most difficult part of this breakup thus far. I try to think of this last bit of sorrow as the last wind of this breakup, although it has only been about three weeks. Based on past experience, I need about six weeks to get back to myself and be receptive enough to even consider dating again.