[sillysaurusx]

Thank you.

Did you ever learn to love being alone? The idea of it sounds nice.

How long did it take for you to start to feel normal again?

If I may ask, what did you personally do for each of those bullet points? I'm curious about things that concretely helped people.

[atas2390]

Yeah, I did, but it took a while.

For me there were two phases:

First was just “not drowning”. The breakup left this constant panic humming in the background, so my bar was low: I just wanted evenings and weekends that didn’t feel like a black hole.

Concrete stuff I did for the bullets I mentioned:

• “Being alone as a skill”: I picked one small thing per day that I did on purpose alone. For a few months it was mostly walking with a podcast, sitting in a café with a book, or cooking something slightly nicer than usual and actually sitting at the table to eat it. The important part wasn’t what I did, it was telling myself “this 20–30 minutes is chosen, not forced on me”.

• “Thin weekend structure”: I made a tiny checklist for Sat/Sun: – one out‑of‑the‑house thing (even dumb stuff like going to the supermarket on foot, a movie, or a park) – one “future me will be glad” thing (30 minutes learning something, fixing a small thing at home, writing, coding) – the rest could be YouTube/doomscrolling/whatever without guilt. That alone made the weekend feel like time that moved forward instead of an empty void.

• “Low‑effort chat outlet”: I had one friend I could message stupid little updates to (“made a decent omelette”, “fixed the sink”). We didn’t have deep talks every day, but just having a place to put those small moments kept me from feeling like my life was happening in a vacuum.

At some point — for me it was maybe 6–12 months — my nervous system calmed down enough that being alone stopped feeling like a verdict and started feeling like default background. I wouldn’t say I’m a monk who loves solitude 24/7, but I do genuinely enjoy my own company now. The interesting part is that once I didn’t need other people to make the feelings stop, my relationships got a lot better too.

Everyone’s timeline is different, but if right now it just feels awful, that doesn’t mean you’re doomed. Treat it like rehab for your attention and nervous system, not a life sentence.

[serf]

>• “Low‑effort chat outlet”: I had one friend I could message stupid little updates to (“made a decent omelette”, “fixed the sink”). We didn’t have deep talks every day, but just having a place to put those small moments kept me from feeling like my life was happening in a vacuum.

I ran a media-centric chatroom at one time filled with folks that would drop in and tell me about their omelettes, and then over the course of some time, wars, struggles, disease, etc they all disappeared.

This is a bit other-sided, but while I was happy to provide the environment they needed to offload silly stuff (and they, too, were struggling) I never anticipated how much I would miss the small daily comments once they were gone.

If you have that kind of connection with folks, regardless of how silly, cherish it. They will probably end up feeling similarly in the long run.

[intralogic]

Part of what atas2390 wrote resonated with me: "being alone as a skill you practice, e.g. 20–30 minutes a day you choose ... on purpose. Over time your brain learns “alone” can also be calm, not just panic"

In fact, purposeful practicing aloneness rewires the brain so that is normal (and enjoyable again).

After divorce, I felt lonely a lot, and didn't enjoy my alone time the way I did before. I made myself go to more social events, but that did nothing to help me enjoy my alone time again. It was avoiding the thing that "scared" me.

I tried meditation (alone), guided by books, but though it helped some, it was too easy to skip, and the reward seemed low.

But then ... I found a Zen meditation school and started sitting with them weekly. It felt good to see familiar faces even if I didn't get to "know them" in the typical way. Sitting was hard at first, because I could see just how obsessively busy my mind was. But focusing on the breath, even in the beginning, slowed the mind down enough that I could see that further down, there is a person that can appreciate the goodness in just being alive ... grateful to draw the next breath ... to be in this moment, not regrets about the past or fears of the future.

I slowly started to feel more connected to myself and then, and this was a surprise, to the things around me. And as I relax into what is, instead of my desire to control what happens to me next, I found I could listen to others better and feel more connected to them. I've even started feeling I can listen to my own feelings better and be a better friend to myself.

I'm guessing any regular meditation practice could do this. I've heard friends say they got this experience from going to yoga, so there is more than one path.

There's an extra I did not expect because its a Zen Buddhism group. There are regular, brief (3-5 minute) kong-an (or koan) interviews with the teacher, with puzzles that can't be answered with Western thinking. Seems like the only answers that satisfy me (and the teacher) come from a more spiritual "gut" level. Getting there seems to poke chinks in my old foundation of western, American, achievement, doing-centered thinking.

All the above is leaving me more open to being alone or being with people. Existence can be more satisfying when you don't need to hold a yardstick to it.

Regardless of whether my input is helpful to you, I hope you find a path that works for you. I believe you can.