During the initial post-breakup period I honestly wasn't very upset over losing the guy I was with. However, I was extraordinarily upset about having lost pretty much everything I cared about (friends, place to live (we lived together, I didn't get to keep the place even though I paid for it), four pets, most of my clothes, most of my personal belongings, etc.). I don't like change, and I didn't know what the hell I was going to do with my life past that point, because even though I wasn't happy, and hadn't been for a very long time, with the guy I was with I had things planned out a certain way and I felt like I was trapped, and had to stay with him, so I had just kind of figured him into those plans - even though, truth be told, I didn't want him in those plans at all. Anyway, it meant I had to have new life plans, and I had to change, and again, I don't like change.

For the first few days I was so anxious and stressed at the prospect of having to reinvent my life, get new things (I had three outfits, one broken bra, a single pair of shitty shoes, keys to the office I work in, and my phone - that was it as far as my possessions went), and readjust to being alone after a three year relationship that I didn't eat or sleep. For about two days after those three, I nibbled on some crackers and occasionally fell asleep without having a choice in the matter, only to wake up having a panic attack. During that time, I thought I must have missed him because I connected having a place to stay that wasn't filled with five other people, having more clothing, having my pets, being more comfortable, and having someone who "loved" me around with being with him. After those few days I realized I wasn't missing him, I was missing having a life and my own belongings, and I also realized I hadn't loved him for a very long time, and I imagine the same could be said for him.

I was still an anxious, nervous, depressed wreck for another two days or so after that, but I at least knew it was because of the loss of essentially my life and the stress of having to completely start over at that point. I weighed 94 lbs from not eating, I still couldn't sleep for more than an hour at a time without waking up from intense nightmares, going outside, chain smoking, and pacing for a few hours before going back to sleep for another hour. All I did throughout the day was go to work, come home, and watch hours upon hours of t.v. At first, I watched The Twilight Zone. Later, I watched all of My Name is Earl. For some reason, watching that show in particular was very helpful to me. I don't know why exactly, it just made me feel better.

At this point it had been about a week. I was starting to embrace the opportunity for change. I had started to become more like the person I remembered being three years ago, the one who was independent, confident, a little mean, but who also enjoyed their time alone and was looking forward to the opportunity to take a different direction with life. Instead of feeling like a 40 year old loser like I had for a couple of years at that point, I felt like a 19 year old, which I was. I got back into writing, I got back into drawing, I started reading again, and I also resumed my habit of drinking and smoking some trees on occasion (think a few nights a week, one or the other, not both at the same time) to help me enjoy myself, which I hadn't done before because I was afraid they would just make my mindset worse instead of better, as that had happened at times in the past. I really think getting back into things I used to enjoy and letting myself focus on enjoying the present, rather than regretting the things that brought me to it, and just trying to have fun and be free was very helpful.

One night, about a week and two or three days into post-breakup life, I started drinking. I was bored, I thought it would be kind of fun to make a Tinder and just see what came of it, and possibly make some terrible jokes and say things to freak out the true creeps I was sure to encounter. I wasn't looking for an actual relationship or anything of course, I just thought maybe if I found someone who wasn't completely horrid a hookup might be nice, so I was open to the idea of that, and that it would be amusing anyway if I didn't. I ended up meeting a guy, and we talked for a while, and decided we should meet up. We hadn't planned it this way, but I got kind of busy on the day we were supposed to meet up, so we rescheduled it for the following weekend. During the time we were waiting to meet up, we just kind of...kept talking. It turns out we were incredibly compatible on more than a sexual level, and we wound up dating. So, I ended up dating someone two weeks after a breakup, but was somehow over the previous guy that quickly, not even giving the old guy a passing thought except under circumstances where I was very reminded of him, but even when I did think of him for some reason I was totally indifferent.

I am currently engaged to the guy I started dating as a result of Tinder, and very, very happy. Basically, I just had to freak out, accept the way things were, realize how nice it was to be on my own, and return to my abandoned interests to feel like none of the past even mattered anymore, except to maybe reference for things not to do in the future. I suppose for me this went more quickly than others.

TL;DR I was an anxious wreck for about a week, but after that week I was more or less totally over it and the things that went with it, decided to embrace the change, let myself downgrade to the previous model of myself in some ways while upgrading in others, rekindled the passion for some old hobbies, and then realized how much happier I was alone. Just try to accept things, and realize you'll be better off. Do things to pass the time until you can truly do that. For some it's a slower process than others.