Stages of Grief, APGT-style

Oh, I know all about the Kubler-Ross model. My father died when I was 8 and my mother, bless her, dragged me in and out of therapy for a few years before she realized that I was really not getting anything out of it. I was doing well in school and had lots of friends, so I was fine. Except I wasn't. Not that that's her fault, because it isn't. It's just that for a child, having a parent die pretty much fucks you up irrevocably. Google it, it's true.

Anyway, back to grief. It sucks, no matter what you're grieving. Or might be grieving, because I still don't know for sure that P and I are over, but I'm thinking we are. And I figure the sooner I get over him, the better. Yeah, it sucks. A lot.

But here's the good news...
I have a well-tested plan for getting over breakups. It involves lots of magazines, mindless books (and/or TV shows), and bourbon. You can substitute other alcohol for the bourbon if you must, but make sure it's the good stuff. No boxed wines, vodka by the gallon, or what have you. There are two reasons for this (ok, three). One, you deserve the best right now. Two, you don't want to add to your woes by becoming an alcoholic -- I don't know about you, but I am pretty careful with my $50 bourbon (Blanton's, if you must know*). And three, it gives you unbelievable street cred to talk high-end liquor (seriously, ask a bourbon drinker whether he prefers Woodford Reserve or Basil Hayden and see what happens).

Books and magazines are up to you -- in the past, I've gone with the Cosmo/Glamour-types and romance novels, but I found that too depressing. This time I've done a variety of home and garden magazines and six seasons of "Weeds" on Netflix. "Weeds" turned out to be an excellent choice -- single mom dealing drugs, clearly things could be so much worse! I have "Mad Men" lined up next. I'm finding gardening -- previously one of my most-hated chores -- pretty therapeutic. I may not be able to sustain a healthy relationship, but perhaps I can manage roses. Or a not-embarrassing lawn. We'll see how those turn out.

Also, and this one will be a bit controversial, don't talk about it. It helps that I don't really have many friends and that the wonderful friends I do have are busy with their own lives, but I know in the past I have spend countless hours obsessing, analyzing, etc. over breakups and with exH and now with P, I haven't and it's better.

Finally, have some kids. Ideally your own, but if you don't have them already, this is probably not the time. You can't cry around kids, it really freaks them out. So being around kids means you have to pull yourself together at least for awhile. And you can't drink *too* much around them. Plus, and most important, they're funny and fun. Mine are possibly (almost definitely) insane, and they are often (usually) (always) exhausting, but they are an endless supply of hugs, kisses, cuddling, and unconditional love. Who doesn't need that?

*Aside from tasting incredible, Blanton's comes in gorgeous cut-glass bottles with tiny brass horses on the stopper. Each horse is labeled with a letter (the letters spell out the brand) and when you put them all together, they look like they're racing. I'm trying to collect the set; it gives a nice sense of purpose to my drinking.