
It was 11:47 pm, and I was standing in the kitchen of my new home, holding a box of cereal in one hand and my phone charger in the other.
For about 10 seconds, I couldn't remember which one I actually needed at the time, but three days before, my life looked a lot different.
Now, I'm surrounded by boxes with all my belongings, and a mattress on the floor of a bedroom in an apartment that didn't feel like it was mine.
Then a text from my sister appeared: "Are you ok? I haven't heard from you in two days!"
I wasn't ok. I was merely surviving, and nobody had told me that these were two very different things!
It would've have been great to say that I pulled myself together and made a plan, but the truth was I didn't have one.
I just sat on the floor of the kitchen with my back against the cupboard with the cereal box in my lap and cried.
Here's what no one tells you about the first week after a separation...
It isn't the emotional highs, and lows that can break you.
It isn't letters or emails from the lawyer, or the difficult conversations with your ex, or even sitting in your car in the car park crying your eyes out.

It's the small things like not knowing where the fuse box is.
Forgetting to eat until 4 pm.
Standing in front of an open fridge at midnight, not because you're hungry, but because you don't know what else to do with your hands.
It's the realization that you've read the same text message over 10 times, and you still don't know how to reply to it.
It's doing the school run in the morning, and acting as though everything is normal, when nothing is really the same anymore.
No one warns you that grief and admin can arrive on the same day or at the same time.
That you'll be crying about your marriage or relationship one minute, then Googling how to read a gas meter in the next.
That the number of micro-decisions that you have to make can make you feel as you've got the burden of the entire planet on your shoulders.
That simple sentence, from a friend who'd been through it two years before me, changed everything.
It changed how I approached every day that followed.
I want to share with you the seven moments that nearly broke me that week. Because, if you're standing on the edge of this right now, or you're already in the middle of it, I think you'll recognize every single one of them.
And, for each one, I'll touch on what got me through it.
When you wake up and your chest is already tight before your eyes are even open.
Everything feels urgent, and nothing feels as though it's going to be possible to achieve.
You can't find your toothbrush, or your bankcard, or even your own thoughts.
Your hands are busy doing things around your space (unpacking a box, cleaning a bath, emptying trash, etc.), but your mind is somewhere else.
Everything is loud, and you're the only one who has to hold it all together.
I remember trying to find a clean towel, and bursting into tears over it.
Not because of the towel, but because I couldn't find anything. and it felt like proof that I couldn't cope with anything on my own.

It wasn't a big fix.
It was a small, specific habit. The kind of thing I almost didn't bother to write down.
It took less than 5 minutes to setup.
By that same evening for the first time in three days I was able to think straight.

This is the day the adrenaline starts to drop and the inner quietness starts to set in, and the quiet is somehow worse.
If you've moved out, you're surrounded by boxes and a bed with no headboard, or just a mattress on the floor.
You're camping in a space that has your name on the rental agreement, but none of your life is in it yet.
If you're staying, you're walking past a closet with empty hangers, or a kitchen drawer with a missing set of keys.
The home that you've lived in suddenly feels strange.
You open the fridge and it's almost empty, and that small fact makes you want to cry more than anything else has all week.
One decision made in under 10 minutes about the space I was in.
It sounds trivial, but made a big difference to my state of mind.
It's the one thing from that my closest friends still talk about, two years later.
If you have children, this is the day that can wreck you more than anything else regarding your situation.
It's them asking you why you and your ex-partner aren't living together any more.
Or, asking you which house their PE kit as at.
Inside, you so badly want to give them certainty, even though you don't have any for yourself.
I remember my daughter asking me, very matter-of-factly...
"So this is my room now, or is it my other room?"
...and me having to leave the room and disappear into the hallway so she couldn't see the reaction on my face.

It wasn't a long talk, or a snippet that I grabbed from a parenting book.
It was one short sentence, the same one that I used each time that week.
It was simple, and it gave her reassurance.

You lay awake doing mental arithmetic.
Trying to figure out if you'll be able to eat after you've paid the rent, gas, water and electricity bills.
The cushion of having a second income alongside yours is now gone, and now everything is in your name.
Truthfully, it's not about the numbers, but the underlying fear beneath it all is...
"Can I really do this on my own?"
I didn't open a spreadsheet, and I didn't reach out to anyone for any advice.
I did one very specific thing with a pen and a pad.
Nothing clever. Nothing you'd in a finance book.
It helped to stop my late night money panics. Not forever, but long enough to allow me to get some sleep.
By now the adrenaline has completely worm off.
Every notification you receive on your phone makes your stomach drop, even before you've read it.
Reply too quickly, and you may say something that you'll later regret.
Refuse to reply, then end up spending the next hour rehearsing what you should've texted back.
Your phone. which used to be just a phone has now transformed into the last place that you want to deal with anything.

I defined one simple rule. Just one sentence.
I made it up as a line of defense, and it acted as a barrier between myself and those notifications for the rest of the week.
It's the one thing that my readers contact me about more than anything else with the question "What? That was it?"

This is the day that exhaustion catches up with you.
For the last few days since your separation, you've been making many decisions all on top of one of the biggest upheavals in your life.
You've also been running around arranging things, trying to establish some level of order in your life.
You feel as though you're constantly in "reaction mode".
For this, it was one simple ordinary object I already owned.
It's embarrassingly low-tech, but it's the sole reason I was able to organise all of my unfinished tasks
By the end of the week, most women will do one of two things...
they either collapse, or they'll judge themselves for not doing a better job.
I did both.
I sat on the floor of my living room, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, and mentally listed every single thing I didn't complete.
It felt as though I failed a test.

I asked myself one simple question.
A question I didn't ask myself in our 9 years of marriage, let alone that week, and it's the reason why week two didn't feel like week one.

That's my whole first week, laid out out exactly how I experienced it, and exactly how I wished that someone had given me guidance in the beginning.
How To Stop Feeling Like You're Falling Apart
The Steps You Should Take To Manage Your Finances
What To Do If You're Moving Out or Staying in The Home
What To Say To Your Children During The Transition
How To Deal with The Things Your Ex-Partner Handled Previously
How To Handle Those Emotionally Triggering Calls orText Messages
Special Bonus Section Added To Help Manage Your Transition
And more...
I wrote it the way I wished someone had written if for me: simple and short to read, practical enough to lean on for seven days.
If you're on the verge of a separation right now, or you're already three sleepless nights into one, the guide above will walk you through the next seven days, one simple step at a time, what ever path you're on.
"You don't have to have it all figured out. You just need a place to begin." - Emma Hart