Anon the Therapist

by B_25

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4016

A depressed Anon, aided by countless books on psychology and philosophy, tries his luck at being a therapist for the fluffy ponies that surround him. Do ponies even have the problems he deals with? Do ponies even need the help he can offer?

A depressed Anon, aided by countless books on psychology and philosophy, tries his luck at being a therapist for the fluffy ponies that surround him. Do ponies even have the problems he deals with? Do ponies even need the help he can offer?

Art by osawari_64

Edits by Tranquil Serenity.

Published 2018-12-15 23:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2018-12-15 23:10:02 UTC

Hot Tea and Long Couches

Anon the Therapist
B_25

“Are you open, Anon?”

I wasn't expecting the voice, or the customer, and above all that, for the princess herself to be standing at my door. The chime rang while she stepped in, curling her purple wings tightly to her sides. She was shivering slightly from the cold.

“Still a few hours before I flip the sign, but please, be my guest.” I stepped back from the bookshelf I'd been inspecting: books mostly psychology and philosophy with a tad of self-help pressing together. They weren't much, but they'd helped me a decent bit. “Can I get you a coffee? Perhaps some chocolate?”

“Some tea would be nice,” Twilight's reply floated over my shoulder, causing me to smile. “As sweet as you can make it, too. Today's going to be a busy day.” I turned around just as she was shaking her head. “That's for sure.”

I nodded my head, left the room, got the kettle boiling, then came back. Twilight was still standing off to the corner, glancing occasionally at my sofa and chair. She looked both intimidated and curious at the same time.

Interesting.

“The tea should be done in a minute or two.” I made sure to keep my distance, while at the same time, never crossing my arms. My suit cleaned and my hair swept back, hopefully, I was approachable. “So, what do I owe the pleasure, Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

Her face lit up. “Y-You don't have to call me by my title, Anon.” She waved a hoof dismissively, tilting her head slightly. “Please, just call me Twilight.”

“Thank you then, Twilight.” I rubbed at my throat. “Have you come for anything besides tea?”

Twilight shook her head. She struggled with herself for a second, like there was something she wanted to say, but whenever she opened her mouth, the right words were not coming out. That, or my mind was playing tricks on me again.

“I'm just here to check up on you, Anon,” Twilight said at last, taking a few steps around my office. “Princess Celestia had afforded you more than enough time off to figure out what you wanted to do.” She giggled, pausing in the warm glow of my fireplace. “But a therapist? The idea of that was slightly lost on us.”

“It's a work in progress,” I replied to her, coming over to my chair. “There wasn't much I was good at in the previous world. I was sad... depressed all the time.” I sat down in my seat, feeling myself exhale while I did so. “So I spent most of my time reading about how to get better. Worked decently for me, so why not give it a try here?”

Twilight looked away from the fire, gazing at me from over her shoulder. She was smiling, despite shivering, even when next to a source of heat. “At least your heart is in the right place, Anon.”

“And intentions don't put out fires or fix houses,” I was quick to reply, for though I had changed, some of my habits stayed the same. “You ponies... are a happier lot than the humans back at home. There's a chance this art is a dead practice here.” I sighed, leaning back into the seat. “If I am unable to help other ponies, and in turn, allow them to help out this world... then I'll find a new profession.”

“I guess that's fair.” Twilight looked like she wanted to say something more, and she opened her mouth to do so, only to be interrupted by the whistle of the kettle. At once, I was at my feet, moving to leave the room... but not without offering her some more words. “How about you take a seat on the couch? It's super comfy.”

I didn't force her to respond, dashing out of the room, entering the kitchen, and putting my second skill set to service. I made our teas, sprinkling all the right herbs, the perfect portion of sugar to the proportion of liquid, all to make our drinks taste fresh and sweet without any rotting teeth.

I picked up both drinks with my hands, and coming back into the main room, was glad to find Twilight on the couch. She didn't put up a fight, though her forelegs were crossed, muzzle dipped and eyes down. She glanced up upon hearing my footsteps, giving me a small smile because of my two creations.

“The perfect princess cup is yours,” I replied as I came to the table between the chair and sofa, setting her cup down on the coaster. “I even went through the additional effort of painting the cup from white to purple. Please enjoy.”

Twilight giggled at my joke. She levitated the drink and let it hover before her muzzle. “You're a playful one, aren't you?” She lowered the cup and peered into it. “So how about it? You have many customers yet?”

I shook my head as I took my seat. “None so far. Been trying to explain what a therapist is to most ponies, but they don't really catch on much to the idea.” I sighed and let my shoulders drop. “I basically told them all that a therapist is just a very good friend, one willing to see delve deeper into your personal issues, someone willing listen to you talk about your struggles and come to an understanding as to the reasons you may or may not do things. A therapist then advises you on how to solve your problems.”

“And their responses?”

“Why should we have to pay for friendship?”

“And your response?”

“Because therapists need to eat too.”

We both chuckled at that, and I cupped my hands around my cup, enjoying the biting heat of it. “How about you? How are you enjoying your job as a princess?”

“Very stressful and very fun, and much like you, I wished I could get paid for teaching the value of friendship.”

Another chuckle, and we held our cups out, letting them clink together in a toast.

“But you do enjoy it though, right?” I said, raising my cup to my lips, blowing against the steam. “Being a princess and all that. That's what you wanted, right?”

“Wouldn't say that I wanted it, but every step of the way has been pleasant in it's own way.” Twilight stared down into her cup, giving a small giggle. “Actually, that's kinda a lie. When I was very young, just... barely a filly, I did dream of becoming a princess.”

I also chuckled, raising my drink to my lips. “Not much different from my world then. Where I'm from, little girls would dress up like princesses.” My eyes wandered downward. “My little sister wanted to be one too. Figured if she started acting like one, well, eventually that would lead to her actually being one.”

Twilight took a sip of the drink, wincing slightly at the heat. In a second, her lips curled back into a smile, the sweet kick of sugar gracing her tongue. “Sounds like she had a head start on me, then. I had no idea as to what was the proper way to act when I first got my wings.

“Must have been a pain in the butt,” I replied. “Trying to be something else, I mean.”

“Everypony has to think you're strong, that's for sure.”

I nodded. “Chin up, princess, or the crown slips.”

“That's the one,” Twilight replied. “I must have heard it over a hundred times.” She gave a dry chuckle. “Must have repeated it to myself over a thousand.” She took another sip of the drink, but this time, it didn't cause her to smile. “It's a good quote, without a doubt.”

I decided to lean forward in my chair, and with a small gulp tried my luck. “Does it ever hurt at all? Having to be strong all the time?”

Twilight lifted her gaze on me for a second, reading into whatever expression I was giving.I made sure to appear relaxed, smiling genuinely to maintain a welcoming demeanor. She looked down shortly afterward, but she continued to speak, “It's... a change of pace, that's for sure. Did you know that I have everypony coming to me for advice now?"

I tilted my head slightly. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! And this whole time, do you know what I've been thinking? I've been thinking... about just how crazy everything has turned out to be!” Twilight leaned back into the sofa, her fluffy, purple belly rising. “Me! Twilight Sparkle! The shut-in, unpopular nerd giving everypony else... everypony else advice on how to live!”

“Must have been one heck of a switch,” I said during her outburst, keeping my tone calm, my voice low. “The feelings and thoughts we had in the past—“ I took a moment to sigh “—they never really do leave us, do they?”

“It's at the point where even Princess Celestia herself is asking me for advice.” Twilight shook her head, having her mane drape slightly over her eyes. “And it just makes me feel so many things at once! Pride, borderline arrogance to have surpassed her at something.” She took another sip. “But at the same time, I feel so weak and alone not having anyone to look up to anymore.”

“Do you truly still feel that way?”

Twilight glanced at me from underneath her bangs, her eyes a soft glow. “Sometimes.”

“Do you mind if I offer my perspective on the matter?”

“Go nuts.”

“I'm not going to deny that somepony needs to sit up and on the throne, to loom high above, because that gives the ponies below something to look up to.” I took another sip from my drink. I then leaned forward and placed it on the table. “The problem with being strong is that... nopony ever stops to ask if you're okay. To consider that the strong can sometimes be weak as well.”

Twilight tried to laugh but nothing came out.

“But don't you dare think for a second that I'm going say it's lonely being on the top.” I gave the best smile I could to Twilight, and while I hoped it helped, I knew I probably looked like a dork. “Because you are surrounded by so many friends that love you. There are aspects to their character that are so strong, that no matter who or what you may become, you will never surpass in those areas.”

“H-How do you mean?”

“Just look at your friends, Twilight Sparkle!” I said with a laugh. “Whenever you're feeling tired and unable to go on, think of Applejack, her work ethic and her devotion to her family—that should spur you on to get you back to your paperwork.” I shook my head. “Or even Rainbow Dash! Whenever you feel the need to push yourself more, just think of her working so hard to become better at what she does, of just how much she pushes herself during her training sessions."

I took a moment to catch my breath, feeling my heart beat slightly faster than it should. “Your friends may look up to you, they may ask you for advice, but don't think for a second you've suddenly ditched them.” I fell back into my seat. “You may have to appear strong for the sake of them all, but in your quiet times, let their strengths inspire you to get through things when it's difficult.”

Twilight's mouth was open long before any words came pouring out. “And what would you know about any of this?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” I nodded in the direction of my bookshelf. “Those books there from the thinkers of my world are the only credentials I possess. That, and my own experiences.” I leaned forward slightly, keeping my body as low it could be. “Underneath the skin, a lot of us are the same. We like to act otherwise, and even though our experiences are different, it's our emotions that tend to be the same.”

“And what would you recommend me to do in this scenario?”

“That's not something I can tell you, Twilight Sparkle,” I replied. I glanced over at my fireplace, watching as the wood burned, its heat seen but its warmth unfelt. “Whatever you choose to do with your life must be of your own choosing. All I can do is help you choose wisely.”

Twilight Sparkle sat on my sofa in silence.I didn't press the issue any further, though I might've if I knew the full extent of her problem; I would've asked, but the princess appeared to be in a more defensive state at the moment, judging from her countenance. There was no way I could blame her for it. The mare had given up more than she intended, and in that moment, might have been beating herself up for it."

“I feel like I'm better than most ponies,” Twilight said at last, “and I hate myself for it.”

“Is that so?” I replied, scratching at the stubble on my cheek. “Guess you seem like the kind of pony to do that.”

“Anon!” Twilight turned her head, crossed her hooves, and proceeded to pout. “That wasn't nice.”

“I'm sorry,” I replied, giving a guilty giggle, “but I figured I would lighten the mood a bit. If it helps, before I came here, I felt the same way about my fellow humans.”

Twilight glanced an eye back at me. “You did?”

“Big time. A complex if there ever was one.” I picked up my drink again, downing whatever of my tea remained. “Always felt like I was smarter than the other students. That my talks about like, about what I wanted to do... everything caused me to feel better than my peers.”

Twilight turned her head to face me, keeping silent, her forelegs still crossed.

“I'd overhear them talk about gossip, about who was doing what, and about pointless games.” I sighed but chuckled afterward. “I was... a little bit edgy in high school. My mind was set on the meaning of life, what the best mindset was to have for success, and to restate what previous thinkers had said before me.”

Finishing my drink, I placed it back on the table. “I had the ego the size of a planet, and at the same time, a self-esteem that hid away whenever I talked to other people.” Thinking about my past either caused me to laugh or scream, and in this case, I was glad I was able to laugh. “How could someone who felt so great be so shy when talking to others?”

Twilight giggled. “I know the feeling.”

“Then I guess I'm not alone,” I said, continuing with my story. “Soon, all the criticism I had directed at others, in the span of sleepless night, was suddenly directed at myself. I realized I could hate all these people, and yet, not have accomplished anything more than them. I had a way with words and decent thoughts to share, but none who were willing to hear what I had to say.”

I let my head fall forward. “What's the point of feeling smarter than others if no one is willing to listen? And what's the point of being better if you have nobody to play with? My arrogance became self-aware and attacked itself out of despite.”

“I guess I was luckier than you in that regard.” Twilight laid down on the couch, tucking her legs into her chest and stomach, allowing herself to sink into the plushness of the cushion. “I had a teacher who listened and an assistant who had no choice but to listen. But... even then, my intelligence wasn't enough to save me from my loneliness.”

“Be nice if it could, wouldn't it?” I said to her as I allowed myself to fall back as well. “But for better or worse, we need others, at least, from time to time.” I tilted my head back and blew out through my lips. “Life depletes our spirts; it's the company of friends that replenish us.”

I let those words hang in the air, not knowing if I had said something profound, or if laughter was due for me. They were adages that helped me through my life, or rather scrape through it, and I wasn't sure how much help they were to anyone else. All I had were sayings—it was everyone else who could confirm or deny how helpful they really were.

“Do you... still feel better than others?”

That wasn't the response I was expecting, but either way, I responded to it promptly, “Sometimes. But I try not to beat myself up over it.” I cracked my neck left and then right. “It's like the saying, y'know? We all have something that makes us special, but because we're all special, no one is special because of it.” I chuckled. “Unless you count their own kind of especially special.”

“You ever find the mental trick to escape that thought?”

“Depends on your reaction, mostly,” I said. “Is it wrong to notice we are better than others in certain aspects? Of course not. That's just the way things are, and in times of action, roles and responsibilities need to be given in accordance with an individual's skills and abilities.”

Twilight crawled along the couch, letting her muzzle rest on the armrest. “So I shouldn't feel bad for feeling superior to other ponies?”

“Recognizing it isn't a sin,” I replied. “But I guess it's the need to feel superior that should be examined a little more. Most of the time, external desire reflect inner-needs.” I stroked my chin. “We may be jealous of a stallion's marefriend not because we want to steal her, but rather, we feel unloved at the moment. In which case, the next line of action is to find someone good for us.”

“I think I get where you're going with this,” Twilight said afterward, building upon what she felt I was getting at. “And, if I had to ask, I guess... needing to feel better than other ponies, well, comes from compensation from when I was younger.” She exhaled through her lips, blowing her mane up. “When I wasn't accepted and other ponies towered over me.” She blinked. “Metaphorically speaking.”

“I get ya,” I replied. “As I said, the problems of our past never really escape us.” I gulped. “When it comes down to it, no matter how much I learn and improve, I'm quick to remind myself that being good at something doesn't make me any better than anyone else.”

“How do you mean?”

“Just because I'm a good speaker doesn't mean I can go around insulting ponies.” I chuckled at my own lousy excuse of an example. “Just like how being a princess means you must command and assert yourself around other ponies, but doesn't make you any better than your friends.” I scratched the back of my neck. “There are too many qualities about us all to start comparing them. Objective comparison, really, isn't possiblein this case.”

“It's like a sand castle, right?” Twilight went on to say. “You can make a sandcastle to lord over everypony else, but all it takes is for somepony bigger to come along and kick it down.” She then chuckled into her hoof. “We're all great at a thing until somepony better comes along.”

I glanced down. “Ain't that the truth.”

She went to say more, when suddenly, the chime of my clock echoed through the room. Without my realizing it, afternoon had come, and I was caught by surprise. On the couch, Twilight was quick to get to her hooves, offering me a smile. “This.... was a pleasant talk, Anon.”

“The same to you, Twilight.” I glanced at the door. “Must you be going then?”

“I have to start putting up decorations around the castle,” she replied, letting her forehooves sink to the ground below. “But I have definitely enjoyed myself here. There were a few things on my chest... that I've never spoken to anypony else.”

“There are some matters we cannot entrust to others,” I replied, “simply out of fear of how it may be used against us in the future.” I nodded my head. “It's not a crime to keep things to yourself, but at the same time, it's hurtful to go through life totally alone with your thoughts.”

Twilight stopped as she circumvented around the table. Keeping still for only a moment, she then looked back at me, her eyes locking with mine. “And you... would help me through this?”

“What else is a friend like me for?” I replied. “I'm both a part of your life, and at the same time, distant from it. In a way, sitting and drinking tea with me is like reflection.” I gave her a smile. “Those are good to have from time to time.”

Twilight giggled. “You're not wrong about that, Anon.”

She went to the door but didn't leave right away, saying one last thing. “Could you book me for another appointment?”

“How does tomorrow at noon sound?”

“Perfect... Anon?”

“Yes?”

“May I recommend a friend here?”

“Of course you can.”

And with that, she left, and once more, I was left alone. For the first time since coming here, I wasn't sure how to feel about myself, what I was setting out to do. My skills were choppy, and my adages forced, but somehow, I felt like a connection had formed amidst it all.

Was there going to be any real use in what I did? I was still a stranger in these strange lands, and even though the ponies here were outwardly happy, they appeared to experience much the same sort of hidden pains and traumas as I had back home.

Helping ponies, no matter what came of it, was a good cause to have. But the cynic in me stole over my thoughts. My assistance would only be useful if it helped other ponies become who and what they needed to be, and do what they needed to do. I wanted to enable them to accomplish the work that the rest of their world required to run properly.

Was that placing too much importance on my shoulders? Could I seriously believe, that by my words and efforts, I could make this world a better place simply by helping the ponies who lived in it? It made sense logically, but it felt too arrogant of me to make that claim.

What was to say that ponies couldn't get better on their own? Did my words help them out of their holes, or was it the ponies who crawled out of them themselves? Even when the pain was too great, they had their friends to seek help from, the other ponies that were actually on the same path as them in life.

The longer my thoughts went on, the darker they became, and I wondered why I had started down this path to begin with.I had the troubles and issues that burdened most ponies,, and I liked to believe I had the skill, wit, and kindness to help them through their problems, but too much of the success of this project relied on how ponies felt afterward.

My self-esteem shouldn't be resting on the results of my patients.

Despite my thoughts and my feelings, I had already made the promise to at least try to do good. It'd take work, practice, and extreme care to make something out of this project... but doubting I could achieve success with it from the start wouldn't do me much good.

So I got up from my seat, went into the kitchen, and made myself some more tea. Once I'd finished, I came back into the room, and taking a favorite book of mine down to my chair, I began to read. My eyes blazed across the pages, but the only words on my mind came in the form of a question.

How much help could a depressed therapist be?