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.