Emotional Support Pony

by An Intricate Disguise

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Human, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash
Length: 5246

Danny has recently been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Along with his medication, he is assigned a fuzzy blue helper to get him back on his feet with plenty of affection and a listening ear.

Danny has recently been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Along with his medication, he is assigned a very special helper to get him back on his feet with plenty of affection and a listening ear.

A story written to relax and inspire confidence in both those with mental illness and those that simply need a listening ear and a smile on their faces. Love to all of you.

Published 2018-12-11 17:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2018-12-11 17:50:02 UTC

A Fuzzy Blue Cure

It's been difficult leaving the house lately. Doing simple things—going to the shops and picking up groceries, seeing friends, to the point that I've even started ignoring their calls.

I hate feeling this way. I haven't been to work in two months. They understand my situation, let me work from home, but that doesn't change the fact that I feel inadequate, like I've forgotten how to be self-sufficient.

Stupid, too. There wasn't really a recognisable catalyst to feeling this way, and that's what a lot of my friends can't seem to understand, no matter how much they want to. I can feel them beginning to grow tired of me, too. My agoraphobia keeps me rooted inside, and while I used to get plenty of visits, as time passed, the contact dwindled. Now, I send texts and hope for an answer. Just a shame I've barely got the courage to talk to any of them over the phone anymore.

Panic grips me when I leave my apartment and travel downstairs to get my mail. When I go to the store to pick up my food, my toiletries, my cigarettes, talking to the same server I've been going to for three years makes my throat close up, my heart thunder like a racehorse. It's horrible. I understand that the fears are irrational, don't even know where they're from, but they persist all the same.

Fear of the outside world, fear of contact? It begets loneliness. The more alone I feel, the less I find myself wanting to be here. We've all felt that way before, haven't we? Like it wouldn't matter if we simply stopped. Might even be a nice break from the usual.

I tried my hardest to ignore those thoughts, no matter how they plagued me. Life was a constant bleeding crawl between eating, sleeping, procrastinating, and wandering the same five rooms of my apartment. It got to the point where I wouldn't even venture into my bedroom, choosing to sleep on the couch. Could you be scared of the outside and claustrophobic at the same time? Scared of everything? As things continued to progress in the same vein, I began to feel increasingly trapped.

I still managed to stay on top of my personal hygiene, thank Christ, but only barely. Fingernails would get long. I'd stop dressing nicely, no one to impress. Looking at dating sites online was a special form of torture. I wasn't a bad looking guy, and knew how to put myself across confidently in a bio. Still didn't change the fact that even if I was to try talking to someone, agree to meet with them... what would I do next, actually go?

Of course not. The idea of being in a date setting at this point was synonymous with volunteering to stand before a firing range. My work was suffering, too. Upbeat tunes that I used to play became memories to me. Playlist was swapped out for Stairway and Hotel California, Sweet Child and whatever other soulful classic could bring a little emotion to me. I felt like a dried out husk.

Common misconception about depression: the victim is constantly upset. In actuality, I too often felt devoid of emotion, apathetic and listless, as if I deserved my fate. Maybe I did. It wasn't as if I was taking any positive steps, or in any way attempting to fix things.

I flirted with the idea of getting past it all. I thought back fondly of times when I'd been out and social, stable and happy, able to do everything and anything I wanted to whenever it caught my fancy. Memories felt like those of a different person. Or maybe I was only a fraction of my old self in this state. I couldn't honestly tell.

The more I researched, the more I began to realise that there were solutions available. I didn't know if I trusted any of them, of course. Idea of taking drugs to cure myself, it just scared me more. I already self-medicated with copious levels of nicotine and sleep, surely that was a fine solution?

...I knew it wasn't. I knew I couldn't carry on like this forever. If anything, it was only becoming harder to do even the most basic things. There'd be nothing left of me at this rate.

So I drummed up the courage to book a doctor's appointment. It wasn't something I wanted to do, and I hesitated for a solid twenty minutes before dialling the number. Almost hung up while I was on hold, too. What if they said 'no', after all? What if they couldn't help me, and I'd put myself out there for nothing, only to have my glimmer of hope immediately dashed and realise that there really was no way to crawl out of this pit?

Silly, irrational fears, and I knew it. I shut them out. I maintained conviction as best I could, and forced myself to book an appointment. Describing my symptoms over the phone had felt like I'd been stripped naked and was being inspected by a probing, attacking light.

But, it was soon done. It was all set up, and now, even through the feeling that I was sifting through the malaise of my own neurosis every time I so much as decided to run through the steps of how I'd go about doing this, I still persevered. I could do this.

I could do this. Couldn't I?

Day of the appointment came quickly—days often do when you no longer keep a schedule. I got myself dressed and ready, actually put on something other than lounge-wear for once. Light blue jeans and a dark orange tee, nothing special.

Teeth brushed, hair clean, it was time to brave the sunlight. Sounded ridiculous in my head, probably would to anyone else, too, but it really was a task for me to persist. I felt as if I could be swallowed up at any moment. Missed the security of my home, where nothing could get me. Doctors worried me too. That was an irrational fear. Doctors were there to help you, to make you better. Why should I have been worried?

Because doctors could also be the bearers of terrible news. We can't fix your issues. There's nothing we can do for you. Multiple times, I had to force myself not to turn tail and head home. Crossing roads was an issue, mainly the waiting as I hoped the light would turn. I didn't like being still. Sensory stimuli caused my mind to race, loud noises spooked me. I felt on a hair trigger all the way to my local physician, ready to be set off.

Somehow, I managed to make it there in one piece. I was just thanking the fact that I didn't have to get on any public transport.

I gave the receptionist my name, kept the conversation as shorthanded and simple as possible. Talking to people was one of the hardest things. I was told to wait upstairs, and before long, I saw the name 'Danny Fowell' appear on screen. Room twelve, it said, and I headed through the corresponding door.

Even general physicians carried a strange smell about them. It wasn't as severe as hospitals, but everything was so sterile. Only saving grace about this place was that no one actually died here. No morgues or crematoriums to be constantly aware of in the back of my head. Still, didn't change the fact that the yellow walls reminded me of my setting, that the small, constricting corridors reminded me exactly where I was.

When I finally reached the door, knocking, a soft voice asked me to enter. Opening it, I found a chestnut haired doctor waiting for me on the other side, maybe in his thirties. "Hello there. It's Danny, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied, being as economical with my words as I could. I tried to find somewhere to sit, then wasn't sure if I felt comfortable doing so. He gestured to a chair on the other side of his office desk, and I had no choice but to oblige. "I'm here because I've been feeling very boxed in lately. I'm not really sure how to describe it."

"Yes, I've already had the chance to go over the form you submitted over the phone. As I understand it, you're ranking on the severe level for anxiety, and have moderate symptoms of depression. Now, there are a few options available to you, Danny, and some that I'd highly recommend, should you be looking to deal with this swiftly and get back on your feet."

His voice was smooth, almost calming. It helped to quieten the heartbeat in my ears. I couldn't help but realise how direct and efficient he was being already. "Yeah... I'd like all of this to be over with. I honestly don't think I can go on feeling this way much longer."

"Now, I will explain to you that there is medication I can prescribe in order to regulate your serotonin output and relieve the symptoms of both anxiety and depression, SSRI's, but it may take some time to find a specific drug that you find works best with you. There is also the matter of dosage, but we'll start you off small. Tell me, is medication something that you'd be interested in?"

I thought it over for a little while, and the doctor didn't push. I was thankful for that, as it was a difficult choice to make. Risk taking pills to stave off the issue, or carry on and hope that it went away on its own? "What are the other options, if I could ask?"

"There are a few," the doctor smiled, reaching to the side and picking up a few leaflets. "We're linked to a talk therapy group here, which can be rather helpful, provided you feel comfortable in a group setting."

"I don't think that'd work for me," I answered plainly.

The doctor only nodded, still with that smile about him. "In which case, there are one on one sessions available with CBT trained therapists, though these would involve travel on your part each week." He paused for a moment, considering, looking me over. "Although, considering the nature of your symptoms..." he shook his head, placing all but one of the leaflets back on the desk. "There is an option I'd like to suggest to you. Have you ever heard of emotional support animals?"

I nodded. They'd been recently common over the last ten years, and the benefits were pretty well documented, even if I didn't know all of them.

"And I assume you know about our pony friends, who have been integrating with earth society for the past couple of years?"

I did. I hadn't seen many, and scarcely interacted with them, but the discovery of their dimension and subsequent world linking had been all over the news for years, knowledge was pretty much inescapable by this point unless you lived under a rock. "I do, but how does that pertain to this?"

"Mental health workers on both the human and pony side have been coming together recently and discussing new and innovative ways to help one another, and one thing we landed on was the use of a pony as an emotional support animal. Now, that isn't to assume the pony is a pet, they are a trained therapist and are to be treated as such, but it's their job to both relax and reassure you, helping to get to the root of your issue and overcome it. We've been testing such companionship for around six months now, and results have been overwhelmingly positive."

I had to do a double take at that. The idea of having a pony as a therapist almost seemed ludicrous, but I supposed that with how much we'd learnt about their race over the last couple of years, it made a surprising amount of sense. I hesitated, briefly, but eventually nodded. "Would I be able to try something like that? Would my insurance cover it?"

"Pony therapy is completely free," the doctor smiled, looking exceedingly happy about the fact. "All of our trained pony therapists are compensated by the Equestrian government, and are happy to work with humans regardless of payment. In fact, I have one that isn't working at the moment, she's only recently been trained and is eager to get to it. Would you like to meet her?"

I blinked at that. Was that an opportunity to see what it was like before committing to anything? I nodded. I didn't know if it was a good idea, but I did it anyway. "If it doesn't work for me, I'm not obligated to anything, am I?"

"Of course not!" the doctor chuckled, reaching out and placing the leaflet in my hands. "There are some additional details in there, but it's mostly straightforward. I'm going to prescribe you..." he took the time to scratch out a small form and then withheld it. "A month's supply of Citalopram, to help with the anxiety. That's assuming that you want to go with the medication route also."

It took me a moment to realise that I could do both. I had to think for a minute, but eventually took the slip. "I'll try everything if I find something that gets me better." And I would. I was utterly sick of feeling this way.

"In that case, we'll be sending Rainbow Dash round to your apartment later tonight," the doctor announced, sitting back in his chair. "She's rather lively, and I was a little shocked she was the type to take therapy training, but she seems very well spirited. I imagine the both of you will get along quite well."

"Rainbow Dash? As in one of Equestria's protectors, Rainbow Dash?" I'd heard the name in the news, read about her a little. As far as Equestrian culture went, she was a really big deal, and she was even beginning to gain some popularity on earth.

"The same mare, yes. Like I said, I was rather shocked to find her volunteering, but I suppose it takes all types to make up this wonderful world." The doctor smiled again. He really was lovely. "Now, will there be anything else?"

I shook my head. I couldn't think of anything. To think that all it had taken was a simple trip to the doctors, a little bravery, and I was already on my way to finding a solution. Somewhere in my heart, beneath the nerves and doubt, the fear that this could all go horribly wrong, I thought I could detect a hint of happiness at my progress.

I'd been frantically cleaning for the last two hours. I didn't even keep that messy of a living space, but holy hell, someone was coming over. Not just someone, something. Something famous and important. And they were coming here for me.

I'd had hours to think back over agreeing to this and hours to regret it since. I knew it would probably be healthy for me, that I'd likely feel better for having tried, but that didn't make things any less stressful here and now. Worries gripped me by the throat and refused to let go.

I'd taken my first pill after picking up the prescription from the chemists. Somewhere in my head, some irrational part of me had hoped that there'd be an instant effect, that taking one would just bounce me straight back to normal. Even some vague placebo might've helped. But that was illogical. I knew how these pills worked, I'd read into them before. It'd take a while for them to start levelling me out, and if anything, things might've been a little more difficult at first as my brain and body adjusted to the difference.

I heard a knock at the door as I was straightening out the living room rug, and instantly crumpled it again without meaning to. It was a hard knock, pretty forceful, and as I did a couple of circles of the room, making sure everything was in order, I realised I still had a duvet on my couch. It was obvious where I was choosing to sleep, and that made me look like some kind of lowlife. I didn't have time to fix it, however.

I rushed to the door, opening it in a flurry, and a small, fluffy pegasus stood on the other side. Rainbow mane, blue fuzz, a winning smile on her face. She didn't beat around the bush, rushing up and taking wing and offering me a hoof to... shake? Bump?

"Hey there! Name's Rainbow Dash, you've probably heard of me, but that doesn't matter. I'm here to make you feel great again!" Her wings fluttered constantly as she spoke, and it stole my attention for a moment. I'd never seen something talk and fly before. Crazy stuff, so much so that it almost distracted me from my nerves.

"Uhh... Danny," I managed, choosing to go for a shake in the end. She was ridiculously soft, that was what I came away with after the second of contact.

"Great! Good to meet you 'n' stuff, I'm happy to be here!" She buzzed her way into the room straight afterwards, soaring straight over my head, casting her eyes about and biting her lip. Her gaze seemed to settle on the bedding for a moment, but she made no mention of it. Likely to spare my feelings. "So... what do you wanna do? I know I'm here to talk, but I'm really hungry. Yeah, flying builds up an appetite, who'd have guessed? Wanna cook something up and chow down?"

God, she was peppy. It was almost refreshing, as much as it was alarming. I wasn't used to this much focussed energy being around me ever, so hearing her speak and move at a million miles a second was taking some adjusting to, but I was just barely managing to keep up. I felt disadvantaged, like I could slip up and worry myself too much at any moment, but she wasn't walking on eggshells with me, or rather, flying. I kinda liked that.

I raised an eyebrow at her without meaning to. "You want to cook with me?"

"Sure! I haven't had a nice homecooked meal in ages, dude. Don't eat meat though," she remarked, sticking out her tongue at the mention. "Cultural reasons, I guess."

I nodded, that made sense. Ponies were herbivorous creatures. Feeling put upon to know what was in my fridge, I quickly ran through a mental checklist of what I had in stock and settled on something I actually knew I could put together without going to the dreaded store. "Uhh... are you happy with a vegetable curry?" I could feel my heart rioting in my chest. What if she didn't like curry? What if I managed to alienate her in the first minute of meeting her? These were the thoughts I was all too used to.

Instead, her eyes lit up, and she beamed at me. "Sure! I love a curry, man. One of my favourite meals, actually, couldn't get enough of it when I visited Malaysia."

I blinked at that, finding the country to be pretty obscure. Knowing she was happy with my choice, hearing her mention it, it distracted me from my thoughts. "You're pretty well travelled, huh?"

Rainbow Dash laughed, setting down on the floor where she stood to just above my knee and splaying her wings, giving them a little fluff. "You kinda get out of having to pay for plane tickets when you've got these bad boys, y'know. Makes border control hate you just that little bit more, though."

I laughed at that. Wow. I laughed at something someone said to me instead of forcing it to not appear awkward. She was so chilled and laid back. She wasn't treating me differently even though she knew what was wrong with me. It was incredible. I ventured a smile, feeling like I was peeking my head out from a bunker with a good chance of it being shot off. "Let's make curry," I said. It was all I needed to say.

"Let's!" she agreed, instantly taking flight again, and I took a second to simply marvel at this creature flying around my kitchen.

Rainbow Dash was a really good helper. She stirred pots while I was chopping, measured heat and made sure the rice wasn't over boiling, helped me decide on which herbs and spices to put in the dish... and she kept that ceaseless energy about her at all times. It was almost intoxicating to watch, made me want to feel more alive. After a few minutes of silent cooking, besides the odd word about the meal, I finally ventured a question. I was curious by now, just from watching her demeanour, and needed to know. "Why did you get into therapy, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Because!" came Rainbow's upbeat response as she continued to stir the food. "I used to deal with the same thing. Constant fear of failure. Performance anxiety. Imposter syndrome. You name it, I've had it. I used to cope by overcompensating." She turned to me, leaving the wooden spoon in the pot and sitting on my counter, eye level with me. "I'd pretend to be more confident than I was, act like I was the best at absolutely everything and that I could never fail. But in reality, I was..."

"Scared?" I ventured when she trailed off. "Worried that you'd come to something you couldn't blag your way through?"

"You get it!" she beamed, nodding her head. "It was terrible, but I didn't know any other way to deal with it. I've not had it nearly as bad as some other ponies—well, and people—but I still know what it feels like to not want to leave your room, to not feel like you can do anything without doing it wrong. It took me a long time to seek help. Took my Wonderbolts captain referring me after a near mental breakdown."

"What happened?" I asked, so invested in her story that I barely remembered to turn the heat down on the pots. The room felt temperate now. I wasn't sweltering. I wasn't scared.

"I was put up for promotion. First class Wonderbolt, which gave me a bunch of responsibilities. Had to do training, had to make sure that cadets were passing. I don't really know how to put it..." she hummed to herself, head tilting. "Me and my friends have had to save the world countless times. That's a pretty big deal. But I've always had them to rely on, you know? When things have been bad in those situations, we've always worked as a team. But with my issues, I kinda internalised them."

"And you weren't talking to anyone," I responded, almost by instinct. "You didn't know how to tell people how you were feeling."

"That's right," she nodded. "So when it came to training these cadets, some of them weren't passing. I couldn't really cope with that. There's saving the world, sure, but you don't see anypony's faces. When you're dealing with the hopes and dreams of a pony right in front of you, it's crushing to see them fail. That stuff hit me hard. Then, I found therapy and realised how amazing it was. Now I can talk about things like this easily. Now, I feel more confident in myself, and it's really legit. I'm so happy to get to share that feeling with other people, even if it sounds a little lame."

I smiled so hard my face almost split. "It doesn't sound lame. It sounds amazing." I fumbled for more words, not knowing what to say next, even if I knew what I wanted to.

She placed a hoof on my shoulder, suddenly hovering in front of me. "It's okay. I've had a lot of time to learn to talk about my issues. You can take as long as you want with yours. I'll be here when you're ready, happy to listen."

I could only nod—I felt cared for beyond anything else.

Food was soon done. We ate in silence, with Rainbow complimenting the taste and seriously wolfing it down. "This is really, really good," she said after devouring most of the plate, while I was only halfway through. "You're a pretty great cook, huh?"

It'd been a long time since I'd had the chance to make something for someone else. Maybe some of her cockiness was rubbing off on me, or maybe I was just feeling playful, because my response didn't sound like something I ever imagined myself saying in my current condition: "I didn't even go all out," I laughed, taking another bite. "Thanks, though." It was a simple statement, but it was the most self-assured thing I'd said in ages.

And her smile radiated as soon as she heard it. "Well, next time, you're proving that!" She took a couple more bites, clearly eager to get through more of it. "Because honestly, if this is just the basics, I wanna see what you can make when you put some effort in."

I was quiet for a moment at that. I pushed my plate away, feeling full. "I think it's been a while since I put any real effort into anything." I felt inadequate saying it, but it was the truth. What had I done that was praiseworthy in the last few months? I sighed, leaning back against the couch. Was only a matter of time before the feelings caught up.

Rainbow dropped her spoon. She walked over to me, over to my couch, and placed her front hooves against my legs, staring up at me. "Wipe that sulk off of your face, dude. You're okay. We're both okay. I promise."

I had a hard time believing her, but the contact was nice. When I didn't respond, she took that as a cue to climb up on my lap, cuddling into me and curling herself up into a little ball. There was a fluffy barrel against my stomach, and hooves on my thighs, and big ruby eyes staring up at me.

"You'll get better, Danny. I promise. I'm going to be here until you get better. I'll visit every couple of days, just to make sure you're coming along nicely." She sat up then, wrapping her hooves around my back and nestling her head into my neck, giving me a short nuzzle. "That's as long as you want me to keep coming over, of course."

I couldn't help it, I hugged her back. It'd been so long since I had physical contact, I could feel sadness and elation gripping me in tandem, cojoined by a desire to cuddle the heck out of this sweet, caring pony who seemed so different on the surface. I pushed my fingers into her fur, feeling how soft she was, gently petting her and stroking through her mane. It calmed the drum of my heart, made me stop feeling the pump of my blood in my veins and listening for the silence in the air. "Thank you, Rainbow Dash. Thank you for coming here, and for being patient with me."

"I don't do patient very good," Rainbow snickered, still continuing to hug me. She squeezed me tighter, and for such a small pony, she really was rather strong. "But I'll do it for someone who's having a hard time. That's what I'm here for." She drew back a little, that twenty seconds being one of the best I'd felt in a long time. "That said! I'm not going to have you cooped up in this house forever. We're gonna be going places." She must've seen the sharp blink on my part, as she instantly chuckled. "Don't worry, baby steps. We'll try going for a walk around the area soon, get you some fresh air. Then, after that, maybe we can try a diner or something. We'll keep doing things like that, that and talking, until you're totally out of this funk and back to being the super cool guy I can see in you already. You've gotta learn to see that yourself, and let it shine to everyone else."

I could actually feel tears in my eyes. It had been a long time since someone had put confidence in me, had simply trusted me to be the best I could be, and offered to help along the way. "Is there anything I can do to pay you back for all of this? For everything that you're planning to do?" I felt like I had to. There had to be some way I could make things fair, after all.

She gave me a little tap on the cheek with her hoof before sitting down next to me, leaning on my side. "Just be happy, Danny. Be happy, and I'll be happy." She smooshed her way a little lower, opening a wing and draping it over my back. That might have just felt better than a duvet. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna call it a night here. I need to call my little sister back in Equestria before it's too late and she's asleep already. Time zone differences, y'know?" She rose up, rescinding the winged contact, and started making her way over to the door as my eyes followed her.

I stood instantly, rushing over to open it for her. "Of course! Thanks very much for coming over, Rainbow Dash. This was honestly a lot better than I thought it'd be."

"I had a good time too, Danny." She reached in for one more quick hug before giving him a stern look. "Make sure you keep taking your meds. If I find out you skipped on 'em, I'll be mad at you. You don't want me mad at you."

Honestly, I could believe that. I nodded, promising to carry on with them, and before I knew it, she was gone.

That was... something. Something pretty incredible, honestly. As I walked back over to the sofa, I eyed my bedding and made a snap decision. I pulled it all out and took it to my bedroom, set it up on my mattress, and laid down to sleep. I felt so relaxed that I drifted off almost instantly.

It had been a wonderful start. A first step, delving into something that I never honestly imagined I'd be able to deal with, but with Rainbow at my side? I thought I could do it. She believed in me. She did this because she wanted to see me get better. Through all my worries, something else shone through. I had to prove to her that her time and effort wasn't wasted, that I could be better for it, show her that was the truth.

As I drifted off, I remembered the comfort I'd found in her hooves, her wings, her coat, and sleep found me soon.

I couldn't wait to see her again, anxiety or not.

Author's Note

This was an important story for me to write, as someone who's dealt with many of the same issues as the protagonist either now or in the past. For those who are suffering or simply feel in need of reassurance, I sincerely hope this was of some help to you, or at the very least, enjoyable.