When my ex-fiance broke up with me just before our wedding, it just shook me to the core. I did a lot of hiking, and I also went on a three-week backpacking trip to Europe and flew there on the day of our supposed wedding. I wanted to plan something that I looked forward to. I wanted to reinvent myself. Nobody in my tour group knew what happened. Until, of course, I broke down the last night of the tour and wandered onto a beach in freezing weather and cried in the kelp and seaweed. Several group members found me there and consoled me as I sobbed out the whole story. The fact that these strangers were willing to watch out for me was one of the most healing experiences I've ever had in my lifetime, and it was the first time that I allowed hope to creep back into my heart.
PS. I also wrote in my journal every single day. It's funny, I've told this story on SR a number of times but for some odd reason I never mentioned the journaling. I dumped all my love and anger on those pages. Just the act of writing did me good, and when I did things alone by myself, I brought my notebook with me to make me feel less self-conscious.