Warning: there may be spoilers ahead.
You know that feeling you get when you've binge-watched an entire TV show and then it's over? Or maybe you've finished a book or movie series and you can't stop thinking about it. You've been dreaming about it. You're spending entirely too long in the shower because you can't stop reenacting the dialogues. (Maybe that one's just me.)
The point is that you have to treat this situation delicately. Whether or not your friends and family believe it, you are in a state of grief. You're never going to know what Harry Potter wore to his wedding! How did Jim and Pam spend their 50th anniversary? And what the hell did the ending of "Kyle XY" even mean? You may never know the answers to these and many more of the questions which plague the imaginative fan, but I can help you deal with your affliction.
1. Denial
For me, the first thing I do after I finish a series is start re-watching it. That way, it's like it never ended! The characters are still with you, you're experiencing everything in a new and more critical way, because you recognize the foreshadowing, and it is an overall rewarding experience. However, you still know deep down that it's all going to end, and it's dissolving your happiness from the inside out.
2. Anger
Eventually, you realize that you will never again see David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor, and you are angry. You curse Steven Moffat and the entire BBC network for every decision they've ever made, but nothing changes. You know that if some dimwitted idiot hadn't been put in charge of the writing or the casting or the funding or WHATEVER caused this beautiful creative endeavor to flounder, then all of your favorite characters would've lived happily ever after and their enemies would get their comeuppance. But you can never test this theory. Because the universe hates you.
3. Sadness
This is the worst stage of them all, and it can last for weeks. It's like your mind is against you, constantly wandering to new plot lines and the scenes you never got to see but would've sacrificed your first-born child for. Like, imagine Jesse Pinkman in a happy relationship with someone that doesn't die? It'll take you at least a week to imagine the rest of his life after the "Breaking Bad" finale.
I'm still dreaming about Spike and Buffy the Vampire Slayer in a healthy relationship, and I finished that show over a month ago. It's like you've finally accepted that your favorite characters are dead, and your life is over. No show/book/movie will ever compare to the love you have for your Holy Grail characters, and they're gone.
4. Bargaining
This stage is just pathetic. You're trying to squeeze the last bits of enjoyment or new creative insight out of your sixth "Friends" re-watch. You think: "I can just read fan-fiction" or "I can just look at articles, gifs, and watch blooper reels." You try organizing the episodes into specific playlists that show one particular character's arc, but it's never going to be as good as a new episode. Surrounding yourself with "Game of Thrones" memorabilia won't bring Ned Stark back. Scrambling for any trace of the show or franchise you've lost won't prolong the inevitable: you need to move on, but you're still clinging to the familiar.
5. Acceptance
After a while, you will come to terms with the death of your show. You might have one last re-watch before removing it from your Netflix queue or tucking the DVDs away. You'll maybe block keywords from your tumblr dash so you don't get the urge to binge watch every time you see a picture of your favorite TV couple. You may feel sad from time to time, or relapse when you find out one of your friends has never seen "Lord of the Rings," but ultimately, you know that it's better this way. The network could've dragged out the end of the series and ruined it instead of quitting while they were ahead (cough, cough, "Supernatural"). So, you know, it could be worse. Plus, now you can start on that list of fifty thousand other TV shows that you need to watch.
