this message may be offensive
i started on prozac- a medication that treats depression, panic disorders, and bulimia. and then one day i woke up and felt okay again. i went to see how my ex was doing, and they'd moved on to crushing on some boy at school a week before i even started trying to get better. my stomach sunk, and i immediately began to write paragraphs of pure "how fucking could you?". i started getting better after i learned to get off of my phone and live. split second decisions became my life force. i didn't need to constantly be on my phone when my life stopped revolving around someone who lives 10 hours away. i got back into the dating world. i asked out a boy, he said yes. i wasn't in love with him quite yet but i wanted to give living a shot. it was the same boy who was my first kiss, my first serious relationship, my first of so many things a year before. his lips had never felt softer. touch had never felt better. life had never felt so intimate- i realised that this is what living feels like. not wasting away my precious teenage years with my face in front of a screen. i felt alive. so, a month into my relationship and two months since my breakup, you'd think i'd be pretty surprised that my ex's friend began to accuse me of moving on too quickly. my happy-go-lucky streak was broken by a sudden panic attack in my bathroom. my ex was playing the victim. i'll not say that i didn't, in a way, do the same immediately after the breakup. but hell, i grew the fuck up and got over it quickly.