It was six months ago today that I started my silly, little blog.
I remember the day well. I was sitting at my desk in my old office, crippled with anguish and mental exhaustion. Two and a bit weeks since the pizza of doom, I had hardly slept and was uncapable of doing, well, just about anything.
But I had been reading breakup blogs. In fact, I tended to get to work about 10.30, log on, look up some breakup blogs, and sit and read until 5.30, when I’d get on the bus and cry all the way home. Yup, August was a joy.
That day, on the 21st of August, I just started writing. And writing. And writing. And it started to feel better. Just a little. But better, nonetheless.
I didn’t expect to hear back from anyone. As far as I was concerned I was just packaging my misery up in words and sending it off into cyberspace where it could no longer hurt me. But hear back I did. From people all over the world going through similar things. people who had been through similar things. I got my very own little breakup community.
It still hurts. I think it always will. But my blog has proved such a great source of relief, therapy and camaraderie.
Happy half-birthday to you, Pizza of Doom.
I’m very, very proud of you.
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