NC for one month today

[goingforth]

Here's my two cents. I wish I could say you get used to this feeling. I'm not. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever I think about what i had, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see. As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive. In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything... .  and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or even a commercial. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out. Take it from me. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

[Sleep doc]

Well said spit out and congrats on the milestone.  One month is big - it is between month one and two (depending on how long the relationship was) that the FOG tends to lift.  I'm at three weeks and though some days are definitely better than others (I work with her mother so that is always a trigger) overall I feel much better.  I am getting back to my life - re engaging in the important things.  Plus getting my feelings out here has REALLY, REALLY helped.  I need talk therapy and this site has been some of the best. 

You're right - you have to embrace the pain, and the hurt because they are 100 ft waves.  But remember two or three months ago, when the thought of that person not talking to you for a DAY would cause you to be dysfunctional.  You wouldn't be happy, perseverating on what they were doing, who they were with, why they weren't contacting you, what did you do wrong, and why would they just do this to you?  Isn't the fact that you have gone a month and these feelings are FARTHER apart really fascinating?  That the aching, yearning and desire are not as powerful as they once were? 

I'm really, really proud of you.  Wear the scars like a badge of honor, and remember what you fought for and who you are.

[BorderlineMagnet]

One month is tough. Here's a crazy fact: with both of my ex pwBPDgf's at exactly the one month point, to the day, they popped back up. The low-functioning one called me with a BS story of what she'd been doing, and the high-functioning one FB creeped me and showed up at the bar I was at. It put things in perspective for me on both occasions, and I was able to move forward so much easier. While I thought they both had erased me, the truth is neither of them had let go. That gave me a liberating feeling of who was really in control, and I have started enjoying my life again. Hang in there, and beware- the same might happen to you. Just be careful of how you handle it if it does indeed happen in a similar way.