A brutally honest timeline of heartbreak—and why you're not broken, you're in stage 3
If you're anything like most people going through a breakup, you're probably looking for a neat little roadmap that tells you exactly how long this will take and when you'll feel normal again.
I'm not going to give you that.
Because that's not how healing works. And pretending it does is why so many people feel like failures when they're still crying at week six, or when they have a "bad day" after having three good ones in a row.
What I will give you is something more useful: a framework for understanding what's actually happening in your mind, why you feel the way you do, and how to stop pathologizing a process that is completely, ruthlessly normal.
This will be comprehensive.
This isn't one of those articles you skim and forget.
This is something you'll want to come back to when you're convinced you're going crazy, because you're not. You're just in stage 4. Or stage 2. Or oscillating between five of them in a single afternoon.
Let's begin.
I – The stages aren't stages. They're states.
Here's the first thing you need to understand, because it will save you a lot of unnecessary suffering:
The "stages" of a breakup aren't linear.
You don't complete stage 1, unlock stage 2, and progress neatly toward some finish line called "moved on." That's a comforting lie that sells books and gets clicks, but it doesn't reflect how your brain actually processes loss.
What you're going through is more like weather than a staircase.
Some days are storms. Some days are overcast. Occasionally, you get a few hours of sun, and you think you've turned a corner—then a cold front moves in and you're back in the rain.
This isn't regression. This is the process.
The reason I'm telling you this upfront is because the single most destructive thing you can do during a breakup is judge yourself for not healing "correctly." You'll have a bad day and think, "I should be past this by now." You'll feel fine for a week and then fall apart, and conclude that something is wrong with you.
Nothing is wrong with you. You're just moving through states, not stages. And once you understand what those states are, you can stop fighting them and start working with them.
II – Why your brain is doing this to you
Before we get into the stages themselves, you need to understand what's happening neurologically. Because this isn't just "sadness." This is your brain going through a legitimate crisis.
When you're in a relationship—especially a long or intense one—your brain builds an entire architecture around that person. Neural pathways for anticipating their texts. Dopamine responses tied to their presence. Oxytocin patterns linked to their touch. Your nervous system literally learns to regulate itself through them.
Then the relationship ends.
And your brain doesn't get the memo that this is supposed to be healthy or growth-oriented or whatever you're telling yourself. All it knows is that a major source of neurochemical reward has been removed, and it responds the same way it would respond to any withdrawal: with panic, craving, and disorientation.
Studies on romantic rejection show activation in the same brain regions involved in addiction withdrawal. The insular cortex. The anterior cingulate. The areas that process physical pain.
This is why breakups hurt in your chest, not just your mind. This is why you can't sleep, can't eat, can't focus. Your brain is in survival mode, trying to get you to do whatever it takes to restore the source of reward it's been conditioned to depend on.
Understanding this doesn't make the pain go away. But it does help you stop asking, "Why am I like this?" The answer is: because you're human, and this is what human brains do.
III – The 7 stages (and what each one is actually for)
Now let's talk about the stages themselves.
I'm going to frame these differently than you've probably seen before. Instead of just describing what each stage feels like, I want to tell you what each stage is doing—what function it serves in the larger process of reorganizing your identity after loss.
Because that's what a breakup actually is: an identity crisis. You were someone who was with them. Now you're someone who isn't. And your psyche has to completely restructure itself around that new reality.
Each stage is part of that restructuring. They're not obstacles to healing. They are the healing.
Stage 1: Shock
What it feels like: Numbness. Unreality. Like you're watching your life from outside your body. You might go through the motions of your day without really being present. You might not cry at all, which makes you wonder if you're broken.
What it's doing: Protecting you.
Shock is your brain's circuit breaker. When the pain is too large to process all at once, your nervous system essentially dampens your emotional response so you can continue functioning. This is the same mechanism that allows people to stay calm during emergencies and fall apart afterward.
If you're in shock right now, don't try to force yourself to feel. Don't think something is wrong because you're not crying or because it hasn't "hit you yet." It will hit you. Your brain is just buying you time.
How long it lasts: Hours to days, sometimes longer for sudden or traumatic breakups.
Stage 2: Denial
What it feels like: "Maybe we'll get back together." "Maybe they didn't mean it." "Maybe if I just give it a few days..." You find yourself expecting them to text. You rehearse conversations where they realize they made a mistake. The breakup doesn't feel real yet.
What it's doing: Buffering the transition.
Denial isn't delusion. It's a bridge. Your brain can't go from "we're together" to "we're never speaking again" in a single leap. Denial gives you a space to adjust incrementally. You're not ready to fully accept the loss yet, so your mind creates a soft landing zone.
The danger of denial is when it becomes permanent—when you stay in "maybe" territory for months, refusing to accept what's actually happened. But in the early days, some denial is normal and even necessary.
How long it lasts: Days to a few weeks. It typically fades as reality keeps refusing to cooperate with your hopes.
Stage 3: Bargaining
What it feels like: The endless "what if" loop. What if I'd been different? What if I'd said something else? What if I reach out and say exactly the right thing? You replay conversations. You analyze text messages. You become convinced that there's some combination of words or actions that could undo this.
What it's doing: Searching for control.
Bargaining is your brain's attempt to regain agency in a situation where you feel powerless. If you can find the thing you did wrong, then theoretically you could fix it. If you can identify the mistake, then you're not helpless.
This is also the stage where people break no contact most often. Because bargaining whispers that maybe one more conversation would change everything.
It won't. I'm sorry. But your brain will try anyway, because trying feels better than accepting that some things are outside your control.
How long it lasts: This one tends to recur. It might be dominant for a few weeks, then fade, then resurface whenever you get triggered.
Stage 4: Anger
What it feels like: Suddenly, you're furious. At them. At yourself. At the situation. At the friends who said you were "so good together." The sadness crystallizes into something harder. You might fantasize about telling them off. You might feel a righteous clarity that you didn't have before.
What it's doing: Mobilizing energy and creating separation.
Anger is often demonized, but in breakups, it serves a crucial function. Sadness makes you want to collapse inward. Anger makes you want to move. It gives you energy when you have none.
More importantly, anger creates psychological distance. When you're sad about someone, you're still bonded to them. When you're angry at someone, you're starting to separate. You're drawing a line between who you are and who they are.
The danger is getting stuck in anger—using it as a permanent shield against vulnerability. But as a stage? Anger is often a sign of progress. It means you're starting to detach.
How long it lasts: Variable. Some people barely experience it. Others live here for months. It often alternates with sadness.
Stage 5: Depression
What it feels like: The fight goes out of you. The anger fades into something heavier. You're not bargaining anymore. You're not in denial. You're just... sad. Deeply, heavily sad. The loss feels real now, and the weight of it is crushing.
What it's doing: Processing the actual grief.
This is the stage most people try to skip, and it's the one you can't skip.
Depression in this context isn't the same as clinical depression (though it can trigger it if you're vulnerable). It's grief. It's the part where you actually feel the loss instead of defending against it.
All those earlier stages—shock, denial, bargaining, anger—they're all ways of not fully feeling what happened. Depression is when the defenses come down and you finally let it in.
This is painful. It's supposed to be painful. You're mourning not just the person, but the future you thought you'd have, the identity you built around the relationship, and the version of yourself that existed with them.
How long it lasts: Weeks to months, depending on the relationship and your support system. This stage often overlaps with others.
Stage 6: Testing
What it feels like: You start to experiment with life without them. You might go out with friends. You might try a new routine. You might even feel moments of genuine enjoyment, followed immediately by guilt or the fear that you're "moving on too fast."
What it's doing: Rebuilding your identity.
Most models of grief don't include this stage, but I think it's essential. Testing is where you start to discover who you are outside of the relationship. Not in a final, resolved way—just in a tentative, "let's see what happens" way.
You're trying on different versions of your life. Some will fit. Some won't. The point isn't to have it all figured out. The point is to start moving again after the paralysis of depression.
How long it lasts: This stage can last months and often overlaps with acceptance.
Stage 7: Acceptance
What it feels like: Not happiness, necessarily. Not "over it." More like... peace. The relationship happened. It ended. You're still here. The pain isn't gone, but it's no longer the organizing principle of your days.
What it's doing: Integration.
Acceptance isn't about forgetting or not caring anymore. It's about integration—taking the experience, the lessons, the pain, and the growth, and weaving them into the larger story of your life.
You don't reach acceptance and stay there permanently. You'll have days where you slip back into anger or sadness or even denial. But acceptance becomes your baseline. The place you return to.
How long it lasts: Acceptance isn't a destination. It's a direction.
IV – Why you're not following the map (and why that's fine)
Now that you know the stages, let me tell you why your experience probably doesn't match them.
You might go shock → depression → anger → bargaining → depression again.
You might feel three stages in one day.
You might skip one entirely and then get hit by it six months later.
This is normal.
The stages aren't a checklist. They're a vocabulary. They give you words for what you're experiencing, which helps you stop feeling crazy. But they don't prescribe an order, and they definitely don't come with a timeline.
What matters is not whether you're following the "correct" sequence. What matters is whether you're moving through them or getting stuck in one.
Getting stuck looks like:
- Denial that lasts for months, where you genuinely can't accept the relationship is over
- Bargaining that has you constantly reaching out, trying to fix something that's already ended
- Anger that becomes your entire personality, where you can't talk about anything else
- Depression that deepens rather than gradually lifting, especially if it's accompanied by thoughts of self-harm (if this is you, please talk to someone)
Movement looks like:
- Having bad days but noticing they're less frequent than they were
- Feeling something other than pain occasionally, even if it's just boredom
- Catching yourself thinking about the future instead of only the past
- Being able to go longer between urges to reach out
If you're moving, even slowly, you're healing. Trust the process.
V – How to actually use this framework
Knowing the stages is nice. But what do you do with this information?
Here's how I'd use it:
1. Stop pathologizing your emotions.
When you feel crazy, angry, numb, or devastated, don't ask "what's wrong with me?" Ask "what stage is this?" Give it a name. Recognize it as part of the process, not a sign of failure.
2. Let each stage do its job.
Don't try to rush through shock. Don't suppress anger because it's "negative." Don't skip over depression by staying busy. Each stage is metabolizing a different aspect of the loss. Let them work.
3. Notice when you're stuck.
If you've been in the same place for months with no movement, something might need to change. That could mean more support, professional help, or a deliberate break from rumination patterns. But stuck is different from slow. Don't confuse the two.
4. Use tools that match your stage.
In the bargaining stage, you need something to absorb the urges to reach out. In the depression stage, you might need something that helps you process and express what you're feeling. In the testing stage, you need encouragement to try things again.
This is what we built Heal for—not to rush you through the stages, but to give you the right support at the right time. A panic button when you're about to text them. A place to write what you can't say out loud. A tracker that shows you the progress you can't feel.
VI – The stage you're probably in right now
If you're reading this article, you're probably in one of the middle stages—bargaining, anger, or depression.
You're past the initial shock. You know the relationship is really over. But you're not at acceptance yet, and you're looking for something to help you make sense of what you're feeling.
Here's what I want you to know:
The stage you're in is temporary.
Not in a dismissive, "just wait it out" way. But in a factual, this-is-how-the-process-works way. The way you feel right now is not the way you will feel in three months. It's not even the way you'll feel in three weeks.
Your only job right now is to keep moving through. Don't break no contact. Don't make permanent decisions from a temporary state. Don't conclude that you'll never feel better just because you feel bad today.
You're not broken. You're in the middle. And the middle is the hardest part.
But you won't be here forever.
Not sure what stage you're in? Heal's guided check-ins help you understand where you are in the process—and give you the right support for exactly that moment. Not generic advice. Actual tools for what you're facing today.
Related Reading:
- No Contact Rule: The Only Guide You Actually Need
- Signs You're Actually Healing From a Breakup (Even If It Doesn't Feel Like It)
- Breakup Withdrawal Is Real: The Science of Why It Hurts This Much
Download the Heal app:
- iOS: Download from App Store
- Android: Download from Google Play
