CaringandReal
Posts: 1397
Joined: 2/15/2008
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I went through something very similar when my master died. :( I don't have a lot of good advice for you. You just have to live it, survive it, one day at a time. And the days go on endlessly and so slowly. A few things that helped me stick it out: I had a little pet that I was dedicated to protecting. Every time I thought of following in his footsteps, I thought of my little cat and how sad and lonely and awful his life might become without me (we were very close). So, initially, the only reason I stuck around was for my little tabby.
I also got some counselling, but not much, just enough to get an antidepressant perscription refilled every three months. The counsellor thought it was bad for me not to go into therapy, but she respected my decision (I told her that my "husband" had been strongly against professional therapy for certain types of people--which was the truth--and that I wished to respect his wish) and just asked me a few questions during each visit. He'd warned me not to talk about D/s relationships to conventional therapists. I still consider it sterling advice.
It took me years (I'd spent 16 yrs. with him, the ties were very thick, and bled a lot when cut) before I was ready to drop the anti-depressants, but eventually I was. Things got crazy for a while after that as I ramped off too quickly, and it was hard to adjust, but I did.
Something else that helped: I had to work to survive. My struggles to obtain employment (I was contractor who'd been out of the field for a while to care for my master as he died) and later to adjust to permanent work gave me something to do, something to occupy my mind. Work is your friend in these sorts of times. :)
The hardest part for me was the lonliness. I was estranged from my family and our mutual friends didn't want anything to do with me after he died. So I was almost entirely alone. One old friend of his remained, but I didn't see him frequently. An online woman I knew had interfered in that friendship with him and he greatly distrusted me for years afterward. But eventually we made up the breach.
Finally I sent out a few pseudopods and started making my own friends, new friends. Mostly online. I approached people who interested me. They were very different from my master and all our old friends and that was good, because they did not remind me of him. Slowly, ever so slowly things began to improve. Finally I felt ready to look for a new master.
It's been six years. I'm back to myself again, whatever the heck that is. :) I don't know if that's long or short for grieving, it's just what it took me.
It will take you as long as it takes. I hope not as long as me! But I do know that getting through the first few early months or years are the hardest. The pain is the sharpest then. I know about not being able to make great decisions, the fear of leaving the house. I also didn't take care of my health, in fact I almost killed myself the slow way. I too felt he was a miracle, a gift given to me, and the worst part of that was the guilt. I felt responsible somehow, although I don't think I was. I still tortured myself with "what ifs": what if I had worked harder to get him the care he so badly needed, etc. At my worst, I felt I deserved this loss, that I had blown the wonderful gift by being a terrible slave to him.
All I can say that it will eventually get better. It's part of being human: we don't hold onto grief forever. It can take a very long time though and it can certainly feel like forever. The closer you were to someone the harder it is, and master/slave relationships are probably the closest there are.
_____________________________
"A friend who bleeds is better" --placebo
"How seldom we recognize the sound when the bolt of our fate slides home." --thomas harris
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