Why You Can't "Just Get Over It": The Psychology of Prolonged Heartbreak
Do you remember that feeling? Floating high above the world, just the two of you, like a private galaxy. Then, suddenly, two stars wink out. It’s only later you realize they were you and me. On a rational level, it makes perfect sense that it wasn’t meant to be. But understanding something with your head is one thing; emotionally disconnecting is another entirely. For that kind of break, logic is never enough. It's a difficult path, but there are ways to make the journey through heartbreak more manageable.
A breakup is a seismic event for the psyche. It's an immense strain on the nervous system. When we say our "soul aches" or our "heart is breaking," we're not just being poetic. The separation is a massive psychophysiological burden that throws our entire body out of sync. The cardiovascular system, hormonal balance, digestion, sleep—everything comes under attack. But have you ever stopped to wonder why we suffer so much? It seems almost illogical.
One might assume the person who initiates the breakup suffers less. But that’s rarely true; the pain is often mutual. Even when a split is amicable and agreed upon, both people still suffer. This should be a moment of rational relief, a step toward a better future, yet it’s cloaked in pain. Why does a logical decision feel so emotionally devastating?
Your Brain's Ancient Programming
The answer may lie in our evolutionary past. From the perspective of evolutionary psychology, a breakup once posed a direct threat to the survival of our offspring. Hundreds of thousands of years ago, on the savanna where our modern minds were forged, a single parent could not raise a child alone.
During the later stages of pregnancy and the early stages of infancy, a woman was completely vulnerable. She needed the constant protection and provision of her partner. The man's role was to handle external threats and find food while she was bound to the helpless infant. A breakup during this period meant the woman and child were likely doomed—to starvation or predators. This was also a disaster for the man, as his genes would not be passed on.
Because a breakup threatened the very continuation of our species, evolution hardwired suffering into the experience. It created a powerful negative reinforcement to discourage the act of separating. You might think, "But we didn't have children." It doesn't matter. In prehistoric times, there were no pregnancy tests. A woman might be pregnant and not know it. Evolution couldn't take chances, so it applied this suffering program to all romantic bonds. This programming is so deep that it remains active even when a person is past child-bearing age. The capacity to fall in love, and with it, the capacity to suffer from its loss, stays with us for life.
The Timeline of Healing: What's Normal?
Understanding this evolutionary program leads to a crucial first point: it is normal to suffer after a breakup. No matter the circumstances—whether you left, you were left, or you decided together—those ancient circuits will fire. You are going to hurt, and there’s no way around it.
If a breakup happened less than a year ago, the pain you feel is a natural part of the process. Your ancient brain needs time to process that there are no offspring in danger and that your survival isn't actually threatened. This unconscious part of your psyche doesn't understand logic; it understands the passage of time. Of course, it’s helpful to work through the rational side of things and protect your self-esteem, but the emotional bond takes time to dissolve. For up to a year, this period of recovery is considered normal.
It’s a different story if the suffering persists long after that first year. If two, five, or even ten years have passed and you are still aching over an ex, it’s no longer about them. You are suffering over a mental construct, a synthetic story you've built in your mind that was triggered by the breakup.
When a Breakup Reopens Old Wounds
What are these synthetic stories? Almost always, they have roots in our childhood.
Consider a person who grew up with emotionally cold parents. A child in this situation suffers, but a parent—even a cold one—usually doesn't leave. The child learns to live with this uncomfortable, distant love, but their greatest underlying fear is abandonment. As an adult, they might unconsciously find a similarly cold partner. But unlike a parent, a partner can leave. When they do, that deepest childhood fear—that the coldness will finally lead to being left completely alone—becomes a reality.
Or, imagine a child raised in a family where they were constantly blamed for everything. "Mom has a headache because of you." "Dad's career isn't going well because of you." The child internalizes a deep sense of guilt but also learns that, despite their "badness," they are ultimately forgiven and not cast out. As an adult, they find a partner who continues this dynamic of blame. But when this partner finally leaves, the ultimate childhood fear is realized: "I am so guilty that I am finally being abandoned."
In these cases, the adult is not just grieving a relationship. They are re-living a movie from their childhood where the worst-case scenario comes true. The breakup is merely the trigger that moves a chronic childhood wound into an acute crisis.
The Three Masks of Unresolved Pain
It's incredibly difficult to face these childhood traumas directly, so the psyche protects itself with defense mechanisms. Three are especially common in prolonged heartbreak:
- Denial: This is the refusal to accept reality. "No, we didn't break up; we're just on a 'pause'." Five years later, this person might still choose an outfit wondering if their ex will like it, or post a photo online hoping they’ll see it. They live in a state of suspended animation, interpreting a birthday text every few years as proof that the connection is still alive. Their life is put on hold, waiting for a door that closed long ago to reopen.
- Repression: This is the act of pushing the pain deep down, pretending it doesn't exist. "Yes, we broke up after 15 years together, but I'm fine. Nothing has changed." This person’s life seems normal on the surface—work, chores, weekends. But this repressed emotion is like a black hole, possessing an immense gravity that sucks the joy out of everything. It radiates a constant, low-level sadness. To keep the pain contained, they might numb themselves with alcohol, overwork, or endless distraction. Admitting that the breakup was, in fact, a catastrophe feels too overwhelming.
- Sublimation: This involves channeling the pain into frantic activity. "We broke up? Fine. I'll make a billion dollars, climb Mount Everest, and get three promotions." This person becomes a machine of achievement to outrun their feelings. It seems productive, but they aren't healing; they're just distracting themselves. If you don't actually process the grief, you can become a billionaire who is still, ten years later, pining for Mary. And given the immense physiological stress of a breakup, this path of "achiever-ism" is more likely to lead to burnout than to success.
A Practical Guide to Mending a Broken Heart
So, what can be done? Here are three practical recommendations for navigating this difficult time.
- Remove the Trigger. In psychology, there's a simple law: a reaction diminishes as its trigger is removed. After a breakup, you must remove the person from your life as completely as possible. Unfollow them on all platforms. Ask mutual friends not to give you updates. Archive all the photos from your phone onto an external drive and put it away. Create a zero-tolerance policy for new information. Your psyche cannot begin to heal if it is constantly being re-triggered.
- Embrace the Pain. Don't be afraid to suffer. This may sound counterintuitive, but you must allow yourself to feel the grief. Stock up on tissues, listen to sad songs, and cry. Cry until the pillow is soaked, then flip it over and cry some more. Avoiding the pain through denial, repressing it with indifference, or outrunning it with sublimation will only prolong it. Your ancient programming requires this period of grief. You will hurt intensely at first, but in three months, it will be half as bad. In six months, it will be a fraction of what it was. Give yourself permission to fall apart a little. It’s a necessary part of putting yourself back together.
- Seek Help When Stuck. If more than a year or two has passed and you are still consumed by the pain, it's time to seek professional help. You are no longer suffering over your ex; you are suffering from a deeper wound that the breakup exposed. Untangling these childhood patterns on your own is incredibly difficult. A therapist can help you see the real story beneath the heartbreak and guide you toward genuine healing. You don't need to spend years of your life mourning the past.
Everyone on Earth has gone through this, and you will get through it, too. As the saying goes, "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Everything passes. Be patient with yourself.
References
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Fisher, H. E. (2004). Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love. Henry Holt and Company.
This book explores the biological and chemical underpinnings of romantic love, arguing that it's a fundamental human drive, not just an emotion. Chapter 4, "Rejection, Rage, and Resignation: The Crash After the Fall," is particularly relevant, as it describes fMRI studies showing that romantic rejection activates parts of the brain associated with addiction, craving, and physical pain, providing a scientific basis for why breakups are so viscerally painful and hard to overcome (pp. 73-94).
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Sbarra, D. A., & Emery, R. E. (2005). The Emotional Sequelae of Nonmarital Relationship Dissolution: Analysis of Change and Intraindividual Variability. Personal Relationships, 12(2), 213–232.
This academic article examines the emotional recovery process following a nonmarital breakup. The study supports the article's point about a general timeline for healing, noting that while distress is acute immediately following a breakup, there is a significant decline in sadness and anger and an increase in life satisfaction over time. It helps contextualize the idea that recovery is a process and that prolonged suffering beyond a typical period may indicate more complex underlying issues.