Patience talks sense, Where. You really do have to force yourself to do something, however small each day. Tiny tiny things. They'll make you feel better.
Years ago, years and years and year ago, I went through an horrific break-up. I was very young and agree to marry a man with more issues than the Daily Mail. He isolated me from my friends and to an extent, from my family. I never noticed it happening. When I fell pregnant, he calmly told me that I wasn't to worry, before adding he had a cricket bat in the garage, which would soon sort me out. I left fairly pronto, cut all ties with anyone from that period of my life and had a termination.
The shock of finding myself so absolutely alone was huge. After months of crying, one day I walked into a travel agent and booked a flight to see my sister, who was working overseas. Due to the nature of her work, she was out most days, almost every evening. I hid away in her flat and cried for the most part. I felt like an absolute failure for wasting the trip. Then on the flight back, sitting there on my own, having navigated public transport to the airport on my own, without speaking a word of the language, I suddenly felt strangely liberated and in control. Nothing really fazed me after that.
That was all a bit extreme, but there is a lot to be said for making yourself do things.
Today, P picked up DD and I knew if I closed the front door after their leaving, I would have collapsed into a snivelling wretch on the hall floor. So I put on my shoes when DD put on hers and I went out as they went out and I locked the door behind us all. They drove off in one direction, I walked the opposite way. I didn't have anywhere to go and ended up in the garden centre. I've bought myself roses and petunias and a mother-in-laws tongue. They've been potted up. I've had a cup of tea and something on toast. I'm going to watch a film and do the ironing. It's all good.
I know the shock will catch up with me eventually and I'll probably come crashing down, but for the moment, I'm okay.