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December 22, 2014
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Say "yes!" to life!

HOW TO GET OVER A BATSHIT BREAKUP

So, as some of you may know, I’ve just been released from an involuntary psychiatric hold while recovering from a casual relationship. (I suggest you read my previous post for context.) But it’s totally all good now. I’m doing so great! I’ve unfriended, re-friended, and unfriended Ben twice already, called him a sociopath, and sent him an eight-part text message, so I’m taking this “breakup” like a total champ!

I never knew I had such a wealth of strength and self-esteem buried deep inside me just waiting to emerge, but emotional torment really is a wonderful way to reveal who you really are- who you were always meant to be- how many times you can get your stomach pumped before your insurance cuts you off.

Sure, I’ve daydreamed about a homicidal course of action and gained about fifteen pounds of misery souvenirs, but let’s focus on the positive. I’ve found the key to happiness after heartbreak and I want to share it with the world. I’M SAYING ‘YES’ TO LIFE!

A 5 OR BELOW OR YOU’RE DEAD TO ME

If you want to put an end to your suffering, you need to be ruthless on your quest for a rebound. This means no more hanging out with your hot friends- only girls that look like they volunteer at a soup kitchen. I learned that the hard way when the other night I hit up some bars in West Hollywood with my best friend Morgan. Morgan is an actress with a golden vag and a face like a fucking unicorn. Honestly, she could take a shit right in the middle of the bar and twelve dudes would still want to impregnate her. I just needed to find some poor schmuck to worship and adore me while I fantasized about Ben as we doggy styled- is that REALLY so hard Moses? After the shit you put me through this year? Part the fucking suicidal sea and just give me a nerdy Jew from Maryland for crying out loud. I busted out all my best material and was so excited when two different guys asked for my number. One of them looked like a lesbian and the other seemed like he was uncircumcised so I was super amped. But my self-esteem really skyrocketed when I woke up the next morning to this heartwarming text: “I’m sorry, but is it really bad if I’m actually into your friend?” YEAH BUDDY, IT IS. You had one goddamn job to do and you blew it! It coulda been the most meaningless experience of our lives but now we’ll never know! PICK THE UGLIER ONE WITH THE SAD EYES NEXT TIME.

And then I made a vision board.

LIVING & LAUGHING & SPARKLES & KALE & die.

Getting over your heartbreak is all about becoming a Buddhist.You just gotta Eat, Pray, Love your way out of tear-soaked baguettes and into an endangered bird watching career. All jokes aside, I don’t think there is anything in life more amazing than witnessing a bunch of fucking hippies breathing. I’m really not a Buddha hater; in fact I think it’s great that people find solace through his teachings. But listening to Ajahn Brahm’s YouTube sermons all day at your desk, and in the car, and at night while you sleep (to let it soak in to your subconscious), and on your phone in the bathroom of your friend’s wedding might make you want to stop and meditate on that equanimity of yours. Furthermore, it’s important to remember that a full recovery requires working on the mind and the body. For this, I looked to Gwyneth Paltrow, Queen of Anorexic Healing, for tips on becoming less “toxic pile of batshit waste” and more “effervescent Goddess of Food & Feelings.” Her basic premise is that by not eating anything you no longer have the ability to feel. This has actually proven to be quite effective, but I started off with just eliminating the most common psychopathic triggers. I don’t know how I could have done it without the support of my friends and family. “Dad, I’ve decided to stop eating meat. I have enough pain and I don’t need to eat animal fear as well.” His response: “Chelsea, shut the absolute fuck up.”

STROKE DAT DIVINE CORE, BITCH.

Many mental health experts recommend finding a supportive and loving community to help guide you through this healing process. Because I’m now a devoted Buddhist, I decided to join a program through my temple called “Refuge Recovery.” This program is a collective of addicts and criminals seeking spiritual rehabilitation through holistic practices. From chanting the sutras to trust falling into the arms of crackwhores and gangbangers, I really feel like I’ve found my own sacred space, my own batshit bliss. However,I have made it a point to share with the group that recovering from the grey area is thug as fuck in case any of them thought they were harder than me. “Secretly following his ex-girlfriend around Barnes & Noble is some rull gangsta shit and I’d probably be dead in a back alley somewhere if I hadn’t found y’all. Loving kindness, yo. Bodhisattvas fuh lyfe.”

“FORGIVE, FORGET, SET IT FREE. LET THE WIND CARRY IT OUT TO SEA.” GUYS, ISN’T THAT JUST BEAUTIFUL?

Affirmations up the ass. Everyone will hate you, but at least you’ll be armed with inspiration. If it’s by Maya Angelou or written on a prayer flag, post it all over the goddamn place. Hang it on your wall. Tattoo it to your face. Subscribe to Prayables or pregnancy blogs. Get a self-help book on tape and listen to it on the way out to Burning Man. Remember that this is a time for self-care and reflection. Find yourself. Fair trade. Marilyn Monroe.

In the words of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, “The best way to get over your ex is to Taylor Swift him on Funny or Die so he will absolutely never speak to you again.” And so it is.

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