Does a dose of reality ever help? I know, reality sucks, that's what we're trying to get away from in the first place... but sometimes I'm able to step back and tell myself that (1) I don't even know if the object of my obsession is still alive after all these years and (2) after the way we parted, he wouldn't give a **** if he did know what I'm going through now. Which hurts, of course, but it sometimes stiffens my spine and helps me focus on other things. At other times, when I'm at a low ebb physically, I'm able to feel what such an intense focus on the past is doing to my energy level, as if all the oxygen is being sucked out of the room, and that helps me turn the thoughts off. I dunno... grasping at straws here. Wish I could help.