It’s odd to be writing about this, since this is not a topic I frequently explore. I have read, though, that being depressed over a breakup is likely a common reason why people fall for the therapy trap. I suspect what happens, or can happen, is that a person feels an empty hole that the ex used to fill. They go to therapy, whether they know it or not, to fill that empty hole.
I did, in fact, a very long time ago, have trouble getting over a breakup. I think this only happened one time. I was 18 years old when I met HIM. He was older than me. I used this as a way to think I was cool, or some such thing.
I remember he knew a lot more about the world than I did. I looked up to him for that reason. He had what I thought was good common sense. He was also a hard worker and was good at finishing what he started. I had only finished my freshman year of college and he was a few years out.
I recall he had a very tough time getting a job. I believe this was because there were no jobs and the area was overrun with college students and grads who were filling up the job market. Finally he got a job washing dishes. It was all he could find at the time.
I was washing dishes, too. I liked the job because it was just me and the dishes. Washing dishes isn’t monotonous at all! There’s a rhythm to it, and you get used to that. It isn’t repetitive since you aren’t just washing one thing, such as plates. You might wash cups, or pans, or trays….and that changes throughout the shift. The dishwashing apparatus does make noise, but the noise isn’t obnoxious like McDonald’s loudspeaker noise.
HE came home late at night and so did I. Things seemed good over the summer. But I think the reason why I had such a hard time with this breakup, eventually, when it happened, was because inside, I never fully trusted him. I was always a bit on guard.
I don’t even remember feeling jealous, but just angry when he was clearly dating someone else. I convinced myself I wasn’t “good enough” and had to be “better” to win him back. He did not break up with me. After a while, though, I figured it out.
I don’t recall crying or anything, except one time when I burst into tears during my trumpet lesson. Other than that, I pretty much kept my utter frustration and feelings of loss to myself. I suspect a few people knew, though.
I got over it by relocating. I felt that I had get away from where I was, because HE was there, and I’d forever be tempted to woo him back, or think I was, as long as I stayed in the same place. This turned out to be an advantageous move for me. After all, there were very few jobs in the area. I moved primarily to take a new job, but in the back of my mind, I knew it would help me with the grieving I felt. It did.
After that, I don’t recall ever feeling like I was going to fall apart after a breakup. I strengthened myself. A lot of the time, I was the one who ended the relationship. A few times the guy got intolerable, and other times, I figured out early on that I was being used. I stopped putting a whole bunch of stake into these partnerships. I was much better off due to that decision.
Come to think of it, there was one time when I felt the loss very deeply, but now that I look back, a lot of what I was going through was mostly drug-induced.
These courtships go through the same cycle every time. I’m so used to it that whenever I meet someone, I tell myself it won’t last, or in many instances, that I don’t want it at all.