How to Heal a Broken Heart
- Reads 2
- Votes 0
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Wed, Nov 30, 2022
This is not a love story.
It is a journey of how can I pick up the broken pieces of my heart. I know I will, but it will take time.
With no one to tell my heartbreak because my previous relationship was a secret, I will openly discuss my pain, thoughts, agony, fear, sadness, depression and even hopes in this phase of my life here instead.
Things I won't discuss: name of my previous lover, our story together and the reason we part ways, for good.
I hope I'm not going to be alone in this path the same way I'm feeling right now. So join me in my misery towards healing and breakthrough.
To all the broken hearts out there. This one is for us!
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Memoirs of A Healer/Clinical Social Worker: Autobiography of Bruce Whealton
A healer. A survivor. A victim of profound injustice. How does someone who has dedicated their life to helping others find the strength to heal themselves after losing everything? In December 2019, I woke up in a psychiatric hospital following a suicide attempt. A simple conversation with another patient sparked a shift within me-a glimmer of clarity that would change the course of my life. But how did I end up there? What devastation could drive a loving spouse, a therapist, and a lifelong survivor to the edge of despair? This book unravels the journey that led me to that breaking point and how I found the strength to keep living. My story is one of triumph and tragedy-of overcoming paralyzing shyness and social anxiety to become a psychotherapist, only to have my life shattered by unimaginable injustice. Between 2000 and 2006, I lost everything I had built: my home, my career, my community, and the love that once gave my life meaning. The destruction was sudden, like a meteor crashing down, and the aftermath left me in ruins. Worse still, the world condemned me as a villain when I was only ever a victim. But this is not just a story of loss. It is a story of survival, of how I faced the darkness and chose to keep living. It is a testament to how love, hope, and the power of connection can guide us through even the longest night. Through this memoir, I share not only my pain but also my triumphs-the moments of joy, love, and meaning that kept me fighting for life. I write this book for anyone who has ever felt unseen, unheard, or unjustly condemned. I write it to show that healing is possible, that our stories matter, and that no matter how broken we feel, there is always a path forward. This is my story. But it is also a story of hope-for you, for me, and for anyone who has ever longed for justice, healing, and love.Complete
Dear ...
This is my story to "you". This is a story about loving someone so much and after all else you don't always get the happily ever after that you always want. No matter the fighting and clinging towards this love. Sometimes the only thing you have left is the memories. This became a story for me to heal my wounds and grow into the woman I am now. I am publishing my story because for so long I have been writing this story for one person but I think others can relate and empathize with this story.
Tumor Love
Sometimes life don't go the way we planned. Sometimes we end up feeling so low, and alone. Like we're in a dark hole with no one around us, but then suddenly there's a light at the end of the tunnel. And I guess what I'm trying to say is.. You're my light, the one who helped me through the worst time in my life - And for that, I am thankful. I'm thankful that I met you, but I also hate you. I hate what you did to me, because you made me fall in love.. And then my world fell apart once again. [WARNING!! Contains mature themes, and languageComplete
Her Breaking Point
He had rules for a reason, or thats what he said. I did something wrong I got punished. I spoke out of turn, I got punished. I looked at him or ate without permission, I got punished. Haven thats what they named me funny isn't it? Ironic really. They named me Haven because my mom would say I was her 'Safe Haven'. What a pile of shit that was. She left willingly, she didn't depart because of some tragic accident. My father didn't kill her. She left because she was a coward who didn't want kids. As soon as my older brother went to college she left. I knew she hated me. I was the product of her love with another man. A constant reminder that her life didn't work out the way it was planned. He who ever he was is a phantom in its own. A deep rooted fantasy never going to come true. My brother left, my mother left, my grandma ignored, and my father broke. They let me give up hope on escaping and then decided to play hero. But I haven't forgotten everything I went through. Guilt consumes my brother but I don't care, you don't get to leave and then buy a reprieve of trying to save someone who has been dead for years. Besides lets just be honest I reached my breaking point long ago.Complete
Cold Water
[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ DepressionComplete
Elizabeth
Some things are never meant to happen the way that they happen. Some things are not supposed to break the way they break, but we are not in charge of this earth. We cannot oversee how things are fixed and how they break. We are only capable of putting the pieces back together...mending broken hearts and healing empty souls. Why him? They ask her constantly. Why the heartless man to comfort the hurting soul? Because, she always responds, even after countless mood swings, crazy demands, constant reassurance, and stupid arguments, he never gave up on her. Why her? They would ask her every time. He'd respond the same. Because I don't want to court her in bed. I want to love her in life. Polar opposites attract. Elizabeth and Romeo attract. They just want to love each other in life through the pain, the agony, the abuse, the depression, the anxiety, the mafia, the breaking, the fixing, the helping, the hurting. It's just love at the end of the day.Complete
10 Months Of You
Idk if I would call this a story or something but I'm just gonna write my how I feel. Basically it's me telling you how I'm slowly becoming nothing more than a memory to the woman I really love and that no matter how much time passes I'll still be here. Hopefully you can relate or just like itComplete
Text Me
"i know that my life is no fairytale. that you'll still think of me as the one who would never have a chance at life, so you gave me yours. then i shattered your heart. i know that this won't have a cliché ending, where i won't make it a day and come running back to you so we can live happily ever after. as much as you don't understand why, there is something that we had before i screwed up and i left not so we could preserve it but so we could move on. i want you to know that my screw up is ending me day by day. i want to come running back, trust me, but i can't." i.just.cant. - our story in text messages - {lowercase intended for theme}Complete
Reminiscent™ | KTH✔
Some relationships aren't meant to be. It's the same with us. Though we both are deserve each other we aren't mean't to be. I want to be with him but i know the consequences of that. I won't let that happen I want to be with her yet I know that I will be broken in the end. I won't let it happen. This too shall pass. I will get over him. I will find someone else. I will get over her. This is a story of two people who are struggling to move on after a break up. They both are longing to have a closure and do so by reminiscing the past and understanding their wrong doings. But in this process, will the old wounds be healed or new ones created? Will they move on or will they not be able to resist the urge to be with one another?Complete
Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardComplete
A healer. A survivor. A victim of profound injustice. How does someone who has dedicated their life to helping others find the strength to heal themselves after losing everything? In December 2019, I woke up in a psychiatric hospital following a suicide attempt. A simple conversation with another patient sparked a shift within me-a glimmer of clarity that would change the course of my life. But how did I end up there? What devastation could drive a loving spouse, a therapist, and a lifelong survivor to the edge of despair? This book unravels the journey that led me to that breaking point and how I found the strength to keep living. My story is one of triumph and tragedy-of overcoming paralyzing shyness and social anxiety to become a psychotherapist, only to have my life shattered by unimaginable injustice. Between 2000 and 2006, I lost everything I had built: my home, my career, my community, and the love that once gave my life meaning. The destruction was sudden, like a meteor crashing down, and the aftermath left me in ruins. Worse still, the world condemned me as a villain when I was only ever a victim. But this is not just a story of loss. It is a story of survival, of how I faced the darkness and chose to keep living. It is a testament to how love, hope, and the power of connection can guide us through even the longest night. Through this memoir, I share not only my pain but also my triumphs-the moments of joy, love, and meaning that kept me fighting for life. I write this book for anyone who has ever felt unseen, unheard, or unjustly condemned. I write it to show that healing is possible, that our stories matter, and that no matter how broken we feel, there is always a path forward. This is my story. But it is also a story of hope-for you, for me, and for anyone who has ever longed for justice, healing, and love.
More detailsContent Guidelines