It was the early morning hours on a cool, Spring morning as Alder—an earth pony colt with a light blue coat and a parchment for a cutie mark—lay on his best. He had bags under his eyes, and numerous crumpled pieces of paper surrounded him, along with several unused pieces that were on top of a textbook. A burnt out candle stood on a nearby desk, and two snapped pencils lay on the floor.
Your report is due in two hours, and it looks to me like you've made some great progress, a deep voice echoed in Alder's head.
Alder rubbed his temples. He took a deep breath and grabbed the textbook, which he hurled at the burnt out candle. “Screw this stupid course!” he yelled.
Come on now, is that any way to react to being incapable of writing something as simple as an essay?
Alder swiped the crumpled pieces of paper off of his bed and buried his face in-between his forelegs. “This isn't fair!” he said.
You said that when you couldn't complete your last essay. If I recall correctly, you blamed it on being worried about a hurricane that was approaching.
“Yeah, well, it was really scary! We don't get many hurricanes here!”
Ah, yes, I forgot. Well, how about the time you read a fake article on Celestia possibly imposing tyrannical laws? Remember how you panicked and hid in your room until your mom told you it was a bogus article from a satire newspaper? That was classic. Hard to believe it was over a decade ago.
“It seemed so real though!”
No, Alder, it didn't. You believed what you wanted you to believe. It's staggering what you'll believe simply because, to you, ‘simple’ is too obvious, so you'll blow everything out of proportion and settle on that, as it seems more likely. If you see something on griffons doing something that one would perceive as aggressive, you'll jump to the conclusion that they want to declare war since, hey, aggression always leads to fighting, right?
“Well, it has to lead to something,” Alder said. “Especially when they're always acting so aggressive!”
You seem to forget that diplomacy and the like exist for that very reason. It often baffles me how you forget about this when history was one of your favorite classes in school. Tell me, have you've forgotten that nopony enjoys conflict? Or have you repressed that in favor of buying into every fear mongering douchebags crackpot theory that Celestia wants to go to war with every living, breathing entity? Don't answer that, I know you'll go try to research it and drive yourself nuts doing so.
C
No, what I feel is worth talking about is this: the fact that you've proven yourself to be remarkably intelligent, yet you'll believe the most ludicrous hoaxes, laughable satirical articles, and sensationalistic reports, and dwell on them until you've gotten yourself into such a panic that you can't function without reassuring yourself over and over. And here you are again, because you bothered to dwell on someone's preposterous claim that there's an asteroid that's going to strike Equus. Tell me: where'd you find this one? Some backwards ass written report that a homeless pony made on a piece of cardboard? Or was it a tabloid with as much credibility as a stallion standing on the street corner holding up a sign saying the world will end in five days, and after that day passes, he's out there with another sign with a new date?
“Okay, first of all, I haven't forgotten about diplomacy! I know it exists for a reason!” Alder snapped. “It's just that…everything always seems too convincing and so true. I look everywhere and it appears to be published!”
Yes, you've see it in tabloids—which are designed to sell based less on journalistic integrity and more on how eye-catching and sensational the headline is. I still can't grasp how, a decade ago, you'd always read them without taking any of it seriously, yet here you are now, practically shaking with fear over an article that clearly not true. You know it isn't true—you’ve read that it isn't, yet you're still panicking. It's gotten to the point that you're being an unreasonable paranoid.
Alder sat up and grit his teeth. “I am not being unreasonable!” he yelled as he swiped more paper off of his bed. “I just… I can't…”
What's wrong, Alder? Can't think of a retort? Back yourself into a corner?
Alder's eyes watered up as he sat motionless. After several seconds, he shut his eyes and shook his head. “No!” he yelled as tears rolled down his face. “There has to be something wrong!”
Really? Because you usually seem to love not fearing that some shadowy, nameless force is preparing to kill you and everypony on Equus. You always seem to love the feeling of not having a care in the world. Why do you feel there needs to be something wrong? To feed into an irrational fear that you create for some incomprehensible reason?
Alder placed his forehooves on the sides of his head and shut his eyes. “Enough! I can't take it anymore!” he yelled. “You're not real! You're just a figment of my imagination!”
No, Alder, I'm the part of your mind that's rational and reasonable. I'm the part of your mind that realizes worrying about growing up did nothing but make you waste a portion of your life because you were afraid of a part of life that you can't control. It wasn't until I finally got it through your head that you were being irrational, and that you never have to truly grow up—and that you can always be a foal at heart. I'm also the part of your mind that's repeatedly tried to tell you that you can't live life if you live it in fear. Too bad it seems that the part of your mind that's more dominant is the part that believes living like that is truly living.
“Enough!” Alder snapped. “Just leave me alone! Please!”
Alder, that essay is supposed to be due in two hours, and your professor wanted it to be five pages long. You'll no doubt crash and burn within a half hour of getting to class, and you look awful. Let's face it, there's no way you can run unless you admit to the fact that these worries have affected how you live. This is no longer just about being irrational, it's about actually living your life without being a shut-in who believes that Celestia's reading his thoughts.
“You can't tell me how I want live my life!” Alder snapped. “I'm free to live it how I want!”
You're right, you are. However, I know how you want to live it, considering I'm a part of you, and I'm the part of the you that pines for a happy life. Wouldn't it be great if you could spend time with your marefriend without wondering if somepony is out to get you? Or what about being able to play with your family without wondering if an asteroid is going to kill us all? Remember when you could do those things because you hadn't suddenly decided that being afraid was the wise thing to do?
Alder's head ached. His body shook with panic as he shut his eyes tightly. Tears streamed down his face as he grit his teeth. “You're not fucking real!” he yelled. “Now stop talking to me!”
Stop ignoring what I'm saying. You know I'm right.
“No you aren't! My fears haven't affected the time I spend with anypony!”
Bullshit. You've zoned out while playing games with your family. You've ignored things friends say because you're too busy reassuring yourself in some crackpot theory you read in some pseudoscience filled book. Heck, you've ignored your professor because you were too caught up in trying to piece together some nonsensical, doomsayers dime a dozen prediction. Tell me, how has it bit affected your life? If you keep denying this, it’s going to grow into something much worse, and you'll need to do more than listen to your more reasonable side.
“I must be going crazy,” Alder said with a laugh. He sat up and let out a sigh. “Look at me: a full grown stallion talking to himself,” Alder said as he covered his face. “I can't believe this.”
Yes, you can. This isn't the first time you've been in this situation, but it could be the last if you'd simply stop being illogical.
Alder hurled a pillow across his room and swiped the nearby candle off of his nightstand. “I've had it with this nonsense!” he snapped. “Leave me alone!”
Alder, I'm a part of you. Get that through your skull. Perhaps then you'll maybe, just maybe, be able to live a happy, worry free life. Or, maybe, you'll continue to wallow in fabricated fears that exist only because you feed into them for some inexplicable reason. You and I both know that you want to live a worry-free life.
Alder shook his head, which felt like it was spinning violently, as he attempted to think of a response. Finally, after a few minutes, he gave up and looked around his room when his gaze landed on a mirror on his dresser drawer.
Tell me, Alder, which is it going to be?
