On Jezebel, I read a fascinating post about a Daily Telegraph story describing Elizabethan doctors’ cures for heartbreak:

Believing that love sickness was the result of an inability to physically express romantic notions toward an unrequited partner, doctors attempted to rid the body of the built up frustrations through various methods. Sex, of course, was recommended, as it helped to rid the body of built up tension and pressure, as did a series of blood-letting techniques “performed to release blood and semen from the body.” This, according to Dr. Lesel Dawson of the University of Bristol, was a means to cleanse the body of lingering sadness. “According to early modern writers,” Dawson claims, “sex expelled the lover’s excess blood and seed, which accumulated in the body and putrefied, releasing harmful vapours that could cause melancholy.”

After I had my heart broken last summer, I waited to even kiss anyone until I knew I was fully cured.

My cures for heartbreak:

  1. Cleaning him out of the Condo
  2. Learning to Cook
  3. Losing Weight
  4. Obsessively posting about all of it.

My primary concern was regaining control over my life.  I can say with full confidence more than a year later that I am in control and I love who I am.  My ex and I are close friends.  I am dating and growing.

Random sex would have been so much easier, though ultimately less satisfying.