I forgot to say to this earlier that I had a similar experience losing my pony. I actually think she raised me (I was 11 when I got her). She looked after me and before that I'd always looked after myself. When she died I stopped eating altogether for 3 months and stopped talking, just stopped. I'd always struggled but no matter how dreadfully bad things were, I'd always managed to hide it and just keep going, even if I fell apart every time I was alone. When my pony went, that was it. I started therapy 6 months after she died. So I sort of see that as being a bit of a gift too really. That the last thing she did ended up pushing me to get the help I desperately needed.