the ex files, part two: the five stages of breakup

 Blame it on Darwin.  Natural selection.  Evolution.  Human beings are social creatures for a reason --we've depended on living in bonded relationships to perpetuate the species, and our brains are programmed to encourage us to form solid attachments.  Falling in love?  Intense pleasure.  Breaking up?  Serotonin and endorphin levels plummet.  Terribleness ensues.  What's meant to serve as a built-in warning system to keep us bonded and increase our survival really just ... makes you feel crummy.  And that's just the beginning of the emotional roller coaster that is a break up. 

 Some jokers out there might try to tell you that the stages of recovering from a break up go something like: Get really drunk, post sad Facebook updates, listen to Emo music, make angry phone calls to the ex, complain to all of your friends, revert to isolation and depression, and finally, drunken hookups.  Me? I like to stick to the more classic Kübler-Ross model-- the five stages of grief.

 1.  Denial.  This could mean putting on a show of false bravado, and over-exaggerate just how cavalier you are about the whole thing.  It could mean going to your "happy place" and pretending it didn't happen.  One time I didn't tell anyone about a breakup for 3 days, because I was sure it was just a problem that would go away, like a pesky cold or something.  Denial is also ignoring reality and fantasizing about scenarios in which you reunite with the ex.  Cut to dream sequence: It's a rainy and cold night, your ex shows up on your doorstep with flowers, and begs for you to take him back while you weep and compassionately tell him all is forgiven.  Denial can provide a temporary relief from sadness, but don't drown in 'de Nile, if you get what I'm saying.

2.  Anger.  It generally takes a lot to get me mad, but I have had my moments.  Moments of "Why the hell don't you love me?!"  Moments in which I am enraged by my own unlovableness.  Moments in which I am enraged at my friends for not warning me what a jerk he was.  Anger is accompanied by tears, slamming doors, and punching pillows until exhaustion takes over, or I remember it is time to go to work.  (Luckily, I am always able to rely on denial to lift my mood and allow me to get through the day).

3.  Bargaining.  Maybe if I lost weight/stopped texting so much/drank less/called less/didn't hack his email/shaved my legs we could get back together and be happy.  Maybe I can overlook his bad habits of never calling/poor sartorial choices/always being late/never paying/being a jerk/making a mess of my apartment/bad breath/not wanting to be in a relationship.  I snap myself out of the bargaining stage pretty quickly with a simple mantra:  I want to love and be loved.  This is true, so sadly I cannot allow myself to bargain, or settle.  Moving on...

4.  Depression.  Based on past breakups, I know I am prone to depression.  Laying in bed under the covers, indulging in a little too much Nyquil, refusing to eat, crying, and being that pathetic person that sobs hysterically during lame Jennifer Aniston chick flicks and/or humane shelter commercials on tv.  This time around, I weirdly have yet to experience any major signs of depression.  Just a manic abundance of energy to cardio lift, go to hot yoga, work really hard at work, shout out all of the answer to Jeopardy!, volunteer to sub at soccer, go out with friends every night, drive people to the airport multiple times a day.  I suppose this could be depression disguised as distraction.  

5.  Acceptance.  That day when you see a picture of your ex and it doesn't feel like a hamster with ADHD is running around your stomach.  When seeing their name on your gchat list doesn't make you feel like you're having a heart attack in a bad way.  The day when you see them in person and you feel a blissful... nothing.  

Obviously, I haven't gotten to stage 5 yet-- I wouldn't be sitting here writing this if I had. Part of me says "this is all for the best" while the other part of my psyche is riding the coaster of stages 1-4 more times than Single Rider Bob rode the Millennium Force this year.  I believe that acceptance will come later, and I'm thinking that as soon as I accept this break up, I can immediately call my ex and see if we can "just be friends."  And...starting with denial again!

L

the ex files, part one: defriending your ex on facebook

Dear readers,
It's been months, but I'm back...and newly single.   And to get my writing juices flowing, I'm writing a mini series on break ups-- write what you know, right?  Tune back in a couple weeks for topics that are a little more fun, or join me on my journey through the sad, the bitter, the thoughtful, and the sometimes funny moments on my road to getting over Mr. Not Quite Right:

In the olden days, breaking up meant saying farewell and putting your love letters in a shoebox hidden in the depths of your closet. But now it's 2011, and your ex is everywhere -- in your phone, in your digital camera that you lost a month ago but now found, on your desktop background, on your Gchat buddy list, and on your Facebook friends list.  You can change your desktop, block their username on Gchat, and put those pictures in a digital version of a shoebox, deep in the depths of your external hard drive.  Out of sight, out of mind.  But with Facebook, there's a lot to consider:  your ex popping up on your newsfeed, your insatiable desire to stalk your ex, various privacy settings, and the irreversible decision to unfriend.  So, fresh out of a breakup....to defriend, or not to defriend?  That is the question.

I don't know what it's like for other people, but I'm very tempted to look at my ex's profile.  And from personal experience, this is how it goes: 

• Week One:  Look at ex's profile daily hourly.  Feel relieved to see he hasn't moved on, and your statuses are wittier than his.
• Week Two:   Ex makes new facebook friend of the opposite gender.  Spend hours trying to internet search her and determine the nature of their relationship based on the tiny profile picture you can see.
• Week Three:   Ex posts picture of himself and scantily clad girl at a party.  You block him from your newsfeed.
• Week Four:  You swear to yourself you won't look at his profile.  You make it three days.  Yikes.  Pattern continues until...
• Week ___:  Ex posts his new relationship status with a really pretty girl who is 4 years younger than you.  You defriend him.  (Or for the truly masochistic, continue to torture yourself by stalking).

 The first time I defriended an ex, I debated long and hard about what that action would mean.  Unfriending someone might look like a cry for attention, and in the power struggle that a breakup can be, you don't want to be the weak one.  I was worried it would make me look like I was powerless to resist him, or that I had a hatred so strong I wouldn't even consider him a Facebook friend.   Or more importantly, that it would seem immature.

But if Facebook is holding you back from moving on from a person, then it might be a necessary move.  And is it really immature to give yourself a chance to move on with life, and let it go? I say no.  It just means that you're helping yourself get back on your feet, and on the road back to happiness and independence.  (At least that's what I told myself when I hastily defriended my most recent ex after a few too many sidecars at the office party last night.)

Perks to defriending your ex:  Not feeling any [irrational] pressure to make your status perfect in case he reads it.  Forcing them to request you as a friend, thereby outing that they tried to creep through your photos.  And most important--it is a lot harder to miss someone that you never see.

L