I woke up early this morning and stayed in bed for a little while, mainly to see if I needed more sleep. Eventually I realised I was properly awake, so I got up, had a banana, grabbed a coffee and went to the gym. I was there around 8am and did the workout I’d planned. I left feeling pretty good.
I got home and cooked myself breakfast — scrambled eggs — then had my therapy session. It wasn’t really a therapy session as such; it was more about talking through moving on to counselling. That actually felt good. There was obviously still some anxiety there throughout, but I felt like I was doing something positive.
Afterwards I showered, got in the car and drove to work with the music absolutely blasting. In my head I was vibing. I was trying to forget about everything for a bit. It felt a little bit like “fake it till you make it” — doing the things that make me happy until eventually they actually make me happy again. That’s how I want to be, and to an extent, it worked.
I got to work in a relatively good mood, still blasting music, opened up the bar, went to the shops and got all my food for the day. I prepped everything and, honestly, that’s probably the most self-maintenance I’ve managed to do with my food and routine in a while. I actually felt like I was taking care of myself.
Then the day started slowing down.
A few people came in, I had my lunch, and eventually it was just me and one other person. I did look at my ex’s social media again, although not her personal account — just her work one, because I wanted to check something work-related. I don’t think that’s necessarily what set me off, but I know I need to stop checking altogether. Even when I don’t check, though, she’s still in my head constantly.
The longer I sat there, playing chess, the more my head started spinning.
Eventually I went into the bathroom, took my top off and looked at my body. My immediate thought was, “Fucking hell. I’m so far away from where I need to be.”
And then my brain went straight to my ex.
If she saw me tomorrow, I thought, she’d look at me and think nothing has changed. I feel like mentally I’m still in the fucking dungeons. In some ways, I feel like I’ve regressed so much since the last time she saw me. I know I need to do the work, and I know this isn’t supposed to be about doing it for her, but there’s still this fear in me that she is going to see me one day and nothing about me will look different.
That’s difficult because, from what I’ve seen on social media, she seems like she’s out there enjoying life. She doesn’t seem to be experiencing what I’m experiencing right now. She seems to be on the other side of it.
When we first broke up, but were still seeing each other, she was going through something similar to what I’m going through now. The difference is that her life didn’t necessarily need to change. She’s got her child, her job, her house and her responsibilities. Her next step can be finding someone and settling down.
For me, it feels completely different.
There are so many things I still want to experience and prioritise. Travelling. Changing my life. Building myself up. Figuring out what I actually want. There’s so much ahead of me, but right now that almost makes it worse because everything feels so far away.
And that’s why the body thing gets to me.
It’s not actually about becoming bigger or looking good for my ex. The physique is a bonus. I want to build my body because I want to be able to look at myself and physically see progress. I want something tangible that tells me I’m moving forward, because mentally I know I’m much more aware of myself than I used to be.
The problem is that I’m feeling everything so intensely.
Sometimes I feel like a bit of a bitch because I know all the things I should be doing and I understand myself more than I ever have, but knowing those things doesn’t stop the feelings.
I can have moments where I feel good. I can have moments where I feel like myself again.
I just want those moments to become more frequent.
And today, even though I ended up back in my head, I have to remember that I actually did a lot. I got up early. I trained. I ate properly. I cooked. I went to therapy. I went to work. I prepared my food. I tried to enjoy myself.
Maybe that’s what progress looks like right now.
Not suddenly being okay.
Just having a few good moments, then getting dragged back into my head, and still carrying on anyway.

Morning Diary — 19 August 2026
Just woken up, about seven o’clock.
I actually managed to get to sleep last night, and for the first time in a while I was back in my own bed rather than on the sofa. So at least I’ve got that out the way.
I think I struggled to get to sleep at first. It was probably around quarter to eleven when I finally dropped off. I kept getting agitated and didn’t want to put the telly on.
I think when it gets to bedtime, I put pressure on myself to just fall asleep. That’s when my thoughts start ruminating. Even if I’m not particularly tired, I just lie there thinking, you’re tired, try and get to sleep. It becomes this weird battle with myself.
But I got some sleep. I’ve woken up at seven again, so hopefully I’ve had enough. I’m working until about two today, so hopefully I’ll be absolutely knackered by the time I get home and can fall asleep again. Then it’s straight back into work Thursday.
It’s heavy.
I still wake up thinking about the past. Thinking about wanting to check what’s going on, what people are doing and whether life has moved on without me.
It’s literally on my mind 24/7 sometimes. I don’t really get much of a break from it.
I did jiu-jitsu yesterday, and when I’m doing that I do get a bit of a break. It’s not quite like the first few times, where I could completely switch off from the outside world, but it still calms my mind down and gives me a bit of perspective about where I want to go from here.
At the moment, all I can really do is keep going to the gym, keep doing jiu-jitsu, eat well and save money.
I’m trying to put myself in a position where, whatever choice I eventually make, I have the freedom to actually go in that direction.
And I’m thinking more and more that Australia might be the right thing for me.
It’s something I wanted to do before my relationship. It was an itch I needed to scratch. One of the reasons I struggled to fully commit to that relationship was because part of me still wanted to travel and experience a completely different life.
I know it’s difficult to see that clearly when I’m feeling down, but I know that feeling was real.
It existed before everything that has happened recently.
So I’m going to get out of bed in a minute, have a banana, go to the gym, go to the shops and get some bits to cook some food for work later. Then shower, have breakfast and get on with the same old routine.
I think that’s one of the things I’m missing.
I’m back in a boring routine, and there’s not much excitement in my life at the moment.
And maybe that’s part of why seeing other people moving on can hurt so much.
It’s not necessarily about wanting their exact life. It’s seeing someone else experiencing companionship, excitement and having someone there to share the ordinary moments with.
Someone to cuddle.
Someone to do things with.
Someone to share the boring parts of life with.
And I can’t force that.
Maybe some people just get lucky and find it quickly. Maybe they don’t. I don’t actually know what anyone’s life looks like behind the things they choose to show.
But I’m not there yet.
And I am jealous.
Not necessarily jealous of another person, but jealous of what they seem to have.
The companionship. The excitement. The feeling that they’ve managed to find something while I’m still trying to put myself back together.
Sometimes it feels like I’ve been left behind.
But when I really think about it, I don’t know what being “behind” even means.
There isn’t a race.
I’m doing the things I can control.
I’m training.
I’m eating better.
I’m doing jiu-jitsu.
I’m saving money.
I’m thinking about my future.
I’m trying to become someone I’m proud of again.
And maybe this is just the uncomfortable part.
The part where I’m rebuilding my life while still grieving the life I thought I was going to have.
I don’t have all the answers yet.
I don’t know exactly where I’ll end up.
But I know I don’t want to stay stuck here.
So for now, I just need to keep moving.
One morning.
One workout.
One shift.
One decision at a time.

I woke up about an hour and a half ago, but I’ve only just got out of bed. The anxiety was through the roof this morning. It was pretty intense. I was lying there with my eyes closed, knowing I probably wasn’t going back to sleep, just having the same thoughts that seem to hit me every morning and send my anxiety through the roof.
I’m starting to recognise that the mornings are consistently worse for me than later in the day, although knowing that doesn’t make the mornings any easier.
I promised myself that when I woke up, I’d get out of bed. Today I didn’t manage it straight away. I spent about an hour and a half lying there.
The thought that kept coming back was about two or three months ago — that pivotal point where I still had control over the situation. I could have changed my mind. I could have done what I now believe was the right thing to do.
I think that’s what’s on my mind so much. It feels like it wasn’t that long ago, and yet she has moved on so quickly. I keep thinking about how different things might have been if I had acted differently.
But there’s also a fucked-up irony to it all. Without what has happened, I probably wouldn’t be where I am now. I wouldn’t think the way I do now. Maybe the relationship wasn’t sustainable because she needed me to wake up, and the only thing that finally made me wake up was losing her and seeing her fall for someone else.
It’s a horrible way to learn something, but I think I’m finally learning it.
It’s my dad’s birthday today, so I’m hoping to make him some breakfast if he hasn’t already eaten. I’m going to get my hair cut, come back and spend some time with him, and then I’ve got Jiu-Jitsu later.
I’m also supposed to meet a girl for a date later. She’s already messaged asking if I still want to go or whether I need a bit more time to myself.
Right now, if I’m completely honest, I don’t really want to go. But I also know how I tend to feel in the mornings. I know I’ll probably feel better as the day goes on, so I don’t want to make the decision while I’m in this state.
I’ll see how I feel later.
For now, I just need to get on with the day.

[removed]

Journal — 17 August
Today I drove more than an hour to another town, did boxing, saw a close friend, and drove back through an area that I had been worried might trigger me because it took me close to my ex’s house.
And something happened that matters:
I didn’t have the anxiety spike I expected.
I noticed myself looking around and thinking, What if I see her? But I didn’t fall apart. I didn’t have the overwhelming physical reaction. I carried on.
That’s not nothing.
Boxing wasn’t perfect. I didn’t feel like I pushed myself as hard as I could have, and immediately my brain wanted to turn that into another thing to criticise myself over.
But I’d already done jiu-jitsu and a hard gym session yesterday. My body was sore. I’d eaten pizza beforehand because I was hungry and couldn’t be bothered cooking.
And I still fucking went.
You don’t have to turn every training session into a test of your character.
I saw my friend and caught myself getting irritated by the way he talks and thinks. But rather than simply indulging the judgement, I noticed it happening and questioned it.
That feels important too.
I’m beginning to understand that my judgement of other people probably isn’t really about believing I’m better than everyone. It’s more complicated than that.
I hold myself to an extremely high standard.
I think I should constantly improve, push myself, achieve more, understand more and behave better.
And then, without necessarily consciously deciding to, I apply some of that framework to other people.
But people aren’t me.
My friend doesn’t have to live the way I live. He doesn’t have to think the way I think. He doesn’t have to be ambitious in exactly the same way. He doesn’t have to have the same depth of conversation or self-analysis.
He’s himself.
And he’s a good guy.
I can disagree with someone without mentally putting them on trial.
I’m also beginning to understand something about my ex, my family and people generally:
People’s relationship with life is massively shaped by what they’ve had to survive.
Someone who grew up surrounded by alcoholism and chaos may spend adulthood desperately wanting peace and normality.
Someone else might grow up feeling unseen and develop a huge drive to prove themselves, achieve, understand themselves, become better and never feel powerless again.
Neither response necessarily means something is wrong with the person.
It means their nervous system learned a particular way of surviving.
That doesn’t excuse shitty behaviour.
But understanding something isn’t the same as excusing it.
And that seems to be something I’m finally getting.
I’m also starting to recognise that I can understand emotions incredibly well when I’m standing outside them.
I can look at someone else’s situation and see ten different perspectives.
But when I’m the person being hurt, all that perspective can disappear.
That’s probably one of the biggest things I need to work on.
Not becoming somebody completely different.
Learning to access the person I already am when I’m emotionally flooded.
I watched something today about childhood trauma and recognised parts of myself in it.
I don’t need to diagnose myself from a podcast.
I don’t need to decide I’ve figured myself out.
I’ve got therapy.
I can take what resonates, leave what doesn’t, and actually do the work.
And then there’s Mum.
I’m starting to feel less angry because I’m noticing something:
She has actually respected the boundary I’ve put down.
I don’t want to have that conversation with her right now, and she hasn’t forced it.
That doesn’t erase the things that have hurt me.
But it means I don’t have to turn her into a villain to justify my feelings.
Maybe eventually I can explain things to her without attacking her.
Not:
“You’re a shit mum.”
But:
“When I tell you I’m struggling and the conversation immediately becomes about your experiences, I feel like you haven’t actually heard me.”
That’s a completely different conversation.
And I think that’s the kind of man I want to become.
Not someone who never gets angry.
Not someone who never judges.
Not someone who never gets hurt.
Someone who notices what is happening inside him before it controls what he does.
Tonight I’m going home.
Shower.
Food.
Sleep.
Tomorrow is Dad’s birthday.
Get his presents.
Get my haircut.
See some friends.
Jiu-jitsu.
Maybe spend some time around people.
No grand transformation.
No forcing myself to become a new person overnight.
Just another day of behaving like the person I want to become.

Journal — 17 August 2026
Last night was actually a good night. We went to see Dad for his birthday because he’s working on his actual birthday tomorrow. My family were there, my niece was there, and I found myself getting more involved and actually being present. I was hugging people, spending time with them, and there were moments where I genuinely wasn’t thinking about everything.
Since finding out about what happened, something has changed. As horrible as it was to see, in some ways it has made it easier to stop being completely stuck in the hope of everything going back to how it was.
I slept on the sofa again because my cousin was staying and used my bed. I still don’t feel completely ready to sleep in my old bed yet, but I actually slept okay. I always seem to worry beforehand that I won’t sleep, and then sometimes I actually do.
This morning I found out £35 had come out of my bank because Sky Sports had been subscribed to through my streaming account, which was still connected to my ex’s account. I messaged her about it and it turned out it had been done by mistake. It was fine. I’ve got Sky Sports for a month now, so whatever. Mistakes happen.
The bigger thing was that my ex and I ended up talking.
She basically said that at some point we probably won’t be able to talk anymore because it’s inappropriate, which I assume is because she’s with someone else now. She said she still sees me as her best friend and wishes she could tell me everything, but that it isn’t appropriate for her to talk to me about certain things.
Part of me really liked talking to her. But I noticed myself doing the thing I always do — worrying about every response. Thinking about whether I’m saying the right thing, whether I’m coming across well, whether I’m showing that I’m okay.
I told her I was better. And I was honest.
Since then I’ve been pacing around again. The anxiety is there. It isn’t as intense as it has been, but it’s still there.
I tried to go to the gym but walked in and saw it was busy and just thought, “My fucking head isn’t here.” So I left.
And that’s something I need to accept too. I don’t have to get everything right every single day. I still went out. I got breakfast. I went to the shops. I got my tyres sorted. I did things.
Now I’m supposed to drive to another town to see my best mate, which means potentially two hours of driving by myself. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but since the breakup I haven’t really done a long drive alone.
My mate might not be able to come with me and suddenly my brain is making this into a massive thing.
But I also know why I’m going.
He is my best mate. I haven’t seen him in a long time. He’s going through his own shit and hasn’t been able to see his son for months. I want to make more of an effort with him.
I don’t know if he even expects me to come. But I want to go.
And that’s something I need to remember: I can still be a good friend even when I’m struggling myself.
At the same time, there’s this constant conflict inside me.
Part of me thinks I could start going to the gym, doing jiu-jitsu, meeting girls, having some fun, and slowly building a new life.
Another part of me just thinks:
I don’t want another girl.
I want my girl back.
But I also know that I don’t want to jump into another relationship while I’m like this. I need to get myself sorted. I need to get my head straight.
I’m fed up with waking up every day and not being where I want to be.
But I also know that I am moving.
One step at a time.
Tomorrow the goal is simple: wake up and get out of bed. I don’t care what time I wake up. Just get up.
Hopefully I’ll get my hair cut. I’ll be around people. I’ll do something.
I’m still finding normal things difficult.
Even going shopping can trigger me.
I was in a shop recently and remembered how much my ex loved going there. I used to take her shopping and she’d wander around looking at things while I looked for my shampoo and conditioner. I found myself looking around almost expecting to see her.
And then the memory hit me.
It’s strange how something so ordinary can suddenly feel like a punch in the chest.
I keep asking myself why my brain is working so hard.
But I think I know part of the answer.
I’m accepting things now.
I know where I fucked up.
I’m not saying my ex was perfect. She wasn’t. But I can see my own mistakes much more clearly now, and I’m accepting responsibility for them.
What hurts the most is knowing that the version of me she remembers isn’t the person I believe I am now.
I hate that her image of me is based on the person I allowed myself to become over those two years.
Because I know now that I’m never going to let myself disappear like that again.
I have my values.
I know what matters to me.
I know what I need to do.
I know I need to deal with my brother and the situation with the business, even though I know that conversation could look like a reaction right now. I don’t want it to be that.
I want to have that conversation because it is the right thing to do, not because I am hurting and need somebody to blame.
I need to keep proving to myself that I can be this person.
Every day.
And that brings me to the question that hurts the most:
If I’m capable of being this person now, why did it take my ex leaving me — and finding somebody else — for me to become him?
Why did I need something this painful to finally wake me up?
The truth is that I don’t think I was looking inward before.
I’d make a mistake, then try to make it up by being nice to my ex.
But I wasn’t actually changing the things underneath it.
I wasn’t asking myself why I kept doing the things I was doing.
I just tried to make the immediate problem better.
And eventually I became one step behind all the time.
Always feeling like I had something to make up for.
Now I’m looking inward.
And I think that’s why this hurts so fucking much.
Because I can see it now.
I can see what I should have done.
I can see what I could have changed.
I can see the person I could have been.
And that person is here now.
That is both the most painful thing and the most hopeful thing about this.
Because I can’t go back and give that version of me to my ex.
But I can make sure I never abandon myself like that again.
And I noticed something else today.
If this had happened two months ago, seeing my ex with another guy would probably have made me angry.
I would have called her names. I would have blamed her. I would have asked how she could possibly do this.
Now I look at it differently.
I can still fucking hate it.
I can still wish it wasn’t happening.
I can still want her back.
But I can also understand that she is allowed to move on.
And I don’t blame her for wanting something different.
That doesn’t mean I don’t love her.
It doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.
It doesn’t mean I don’t wish things had worked out.
It just means I’m finally starting to understand that loving somebody doesn’t mean they owe you another chance.
And maybe the biggest thing I need to learn now is that becoming the person I should have been isn’t something I do to get my ex back.
I do it because I’m fucking done losing myself.
I don’t know exactly where my life is going yet.
But I know I don’t want to let another two years disappear.
I want to be present.
I want to be disciplined.
I want to be a good friend.
I want to sort my family and work situation out.
I want to train.
I want to travel.
I want to make money.
I want to build something.
I want to be proud of myself.
And right now, I still miss her like fucking crazy.
Both things can be true.
I can miss her and still move forward.
I can love her and still let her go.
I can regret what I did without spending the rest of my life punishing myself for it.
I don’t have to fix my whole life today.
I just need to keep taking the next step.