How Not To Treat Mental Illnesses: A Cautionary Tale

by thiswasamistake

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Main 6, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Fluttershy
Length: 3069

Fluttershy wants to tell her friends some very personal things about herself. After several months of knowing them, she wants to try and explain her..."shyness"...a little bit better.

Everypony knows Fluttershy as Fluttershy. She has the softest, sweetest, meekest little squeals of fearful shock whenever a leaf touches her, she often doesn't leave her property for days, and her animals hear her voice far more often than her pony friends do. Her friends don't really mind her quirks. After all, they all have their differences; it's part of why they work so well together!

But Fluttershy's "shyness" isn't just a character trait. She has something to tell them, and although mental health isn't a topic that's ever really come up amongst her closest friends, she's quite literally saved all of Equestria with them. Several times. Surely that must mean that they have a strong enough bond for her worst-case fantasies to be absolutely untrue and disproportionately bad?

Published 2021-01-01 09:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-01-01 09:30:00 UTC

AVPD - Avoidant Personality Disorder

Her hooves shake as she gratefully accepts the fourth blank scroll of the afternoon from Harry, the bear letting out a nervous rumble before nudging at her side with a cold, wet nose. She giggles at the sudden dampness on her coat, dropping the quill and leaving a tiny blotch of black on her forehoof as the tip clips it before it finishes its journey to the ground. He growls again, this time in apology.

Nuzzling his belly gently, she looks up at him with a forgiving, nervous smile before leaning down to pick the quill up, placing it back into the ink pot for the moment.

"Oh, Harry, it's alright." Fluttershy stands from where she'd been laying in the corner of her living room, stretching out all six limbs with a series of tiny, soft sighs before shaking the burn out. "I needed to take a break, anyways." Her smile quickly droops into an anxiety-filled grimace, her heart beginning to race once more. "...after all, I- I-I don't want to be too tired to, um...answer any q-questions that...that the girls might h-h-"

Unfortunately, the tightening feeling in her chest and the way she feels her breath increasing as the ever-growing sensation of being unable to get enough air is all too familiar to the yellow pegasus, and Harry's familiar enough with the oncoming symptoms of his caretaker's panic attacks by now to know to grasp her in his large arms and to squeeze while rumbling low in his chest. The vibrations of his throat spread throughout her body, and as she feels her entire world shrink down to just the feeling of his shaggy fur and darkness, her heart slowly, so painstakingly slowly, begins to slow from its frantic pace. She knows that she won't be allowed to leave, though, until she talks through what caused this; Harry's never allowed her to run from her fears. Not when they're in her cottage. This is her safe place because he's made it her safe place.

'But I don't know if I can...I'm not strong eno-'

Something small and fuzzy wraps itself around her right hind hoof, and when she shakes it gently, she receives a series of small squeaks from her favorite little bunny in the whole world: Angel.

Suddenly, she feels just a little bit stronger. Strong enough to try and get her concerns out, even though she knows it'll probably spark another wave of panic.

'But...it's okay. It's okay to panic. As long as I talk myself through it, it's okay to panic, because Doctor Cognition said that...sometimes, you've gotta fall down, so that when you get back up, the success is that much more significant, Fluttershy!'

She takes a deep, shaky breath, inhaling the scent of sunlight and grass and dust from Harry's fur. One slightly trapped forehoof taps against his belly twice; their signal for 'loosen your grip.' Another deep breath, only a little bit less shaky.

"...I-I...I..." A loud gulp echoes throughout the room, and she hears Angel's claws clicking against the floor of her cottage before glass is pressed to her side and she looks down to see a cup of water being held up by her fuzzy pal. Tears come to her eyes - she was wondering when those would start - as she takes the cup and sips at it, finding that the lump in her throat is choking her just a little bit less now. He gestures to her, waving his arms about and squeaking in intervals that would seem random to anypony but Fluttershy.

"Remember your "I feel" statements, Fluttershy!"

Taking another sip of water, she clears her throat, and tries again. Although her voice quavers from the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks, there's a little more confidence behind her tone this time.

"I ff- f-feel...scared." She thinks, again, of Doctor Cognition and his words.

'Right. Next: Why do I feel this way?'

"A-And I'm- I'm scared, b-because...I've never really- I-I didn't know that, um, that my fear, a-and nervousness, was because of some disorder. So even though those b-b-" She closes her eyes, takes a few deep breaths, then reopens them, aquamarine eyes shimmering with determination. "So even though those awful b-bullies teased me for- for being shy, and my flying, they didn't know to- to tease me for...for m-my personality disorder...a-and I've never told anypony, b-because now...now I'm a grown pony, and- and everypony in Ponyville just...accepts that I'm 'shy' and- and I've never felt the need to explain why."

Fluttershy hadn't noticed that she'd started crying harder until she feels Harry's arms release her for just long enough to allow Angel into his grasp as well, pink pads gently brushing away the steady flow of saltwater coming from her eyes as he offers her a small, supportive smile. She lets out a small sob at the gesture, her heart pulled harder by his actions but in a much more positive direction this time.

"Thank you, Angel...snff...but, um, I-I think that, maybe- no, that I definitely should t-t- tell the girls about this, so that...hopefully they can at least...u-understand why I am the way that I am." A tiny, hesitantly hopeful smile graces her damp lips. "A-And, in the end, it should bring us all closer together, r-right?"

Finally, she's released from her warm prison, Harry giving her a long lick across the top of her head and Angel kissing her cheek as he hops down from the bear's arm. She's exhausted from the physical exertion of her panic attack, but, as always, she knows that she feels a heck of a lot better than she would if she had simply run away from the trigger of it. Setting her water down, she flaps up to give Harry a smooch on the tip of his nose before hugging his snout, rubbing her cheek against his.

"And thank you, Harry. I really don't know what I'd do without my animal friends." Landing back on the ground, she finishes off her drink before trotting over to her temporary writing station with a new vigor in her soul. "Now, I think we have some diagnostic criteria to finish copying!"

It's been a long time since she's had to actually use the medication that Doctor Cognition had prescribed her, but she's taking no chances; as much as she wishes she could convince herself otherwise, her mind is dead set on the idea that giving her friends a first-hoof demonstration of her social anxiety would only lead to ridicule and the loss of all five friends. As she washes two pills down with a healthy swig of water, she hopes that, after their talk, maybe she'll one day feel comfortable enough to have a pony friend comfort her during a panic attack.

'Oh, Fluttershy...'a pony friend', really, you- no. Doctor Cognition wouldn't want you to make fun of yourself. You have your coping mechanisms, and you aren't hurting anypony by having your friends.'

Putting her pill bottle back in the cabinet above the bathroom sink, she shuts the door then gives herself a stern look in the mirror.

'You're trying your best, and your best is always good enough.'

With a shaky breath in, then a slightly less shaky breath out, she exits the bathroom and enters the kitchen just as her teapot begins to whistle, followed by the happy 'ting!' of her bird-shaped timer, signifying that her peanut butter cookies are finished baking.

She hears them before they knock. Her ears lay down flat against her skull, plastered there as she struggles to put the cranberry herbal tea leaves into her favorite tea strainer - it takes four tries, and even still, some loose leaves fall into the pot - with shaking hooves, and she nearly jumps out of her skin as several booming knocks echo throughout the entire cottage so loudly that the windows themselves threaten to shatter.

As the medication begins to kick in, though, she takes another deep breath, and finds that the glass panes are perfectly settled into their places within their wooden frames, and none of the animals in her cottage look even the slightest bit ruffled. Her heart thumps just a little bit slower, just a little bit more gently.

"U-Um- c- come in, girls! Door's unlocked!"

Thankfully, her head's much steadier than her hooves, and as she removes the hot metal pan from the oven, none of the cookies fall and she doesn't burn herself once. Taking a spatula from its drawer, she carefully slides several cookies onto five separate plates, arranging them around their respective tea cups, then places the tea kettle in the center. As she walks into her living room, she struggles - and manages - to not clench her jaw tighter.

"Oh, darling, you didn't have to go through all of that trouble for little old us!"

A trembly smile makes its way across her lips, and she looks down at the ground.

"O-Oh, it- i-it's...it's not a- a problem...b-be careful, though, the- th-the cookies, are- th-they're, s- s-still h- still hot," and towards the end of her sentence, she's practically whispering, her words just about inaudible.

Instantly, the mood of the room changes. All five of her friends' expressions shift into variants of worry and concern for the yellow pegasus' wellbeing, particularly Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. When they start to speak, however, they fall silent as Fluttershy holds up a hoof, silently asking for them to give her a moment to collect her words.

When she looks back up, her smile is wobbling much harder, and it's clear she's struggling to keep herself from bolting out of the room, but she forces herself to walk closer to the group, walking over to a bunch of five scrolls, neatly tied off with ribbons the color of each member of the groups' respective coat colors. Wordlessly, she holds them out, and everypony takes one, looking at her with a questioning glance. She nods again, and they open the scrolls. The confusion in their eyes only grows as they scan over the words, but when they look back up at Fluttershy, her hind legs have collapsed as her mouth opens and shuts several times as she attempts to speak. They maintain their silence, patiently waiting for her to speak; even Pinkie Pie is sitting (mostly) still at this point.

Eventually, the knot in her throat shrinks enough that she feels like she's not going to vomit when she tries to force her voice out. It's still hoarse and strained when she does speak.

"Th-This- it-"

'Doctor Cognition's breathing exercises. Four seconds in, hold it for seven seconds, exhale for eight seconds. Four in, hold seven, out eight. Repeat...repeat...repeat...okay. Okay. Talk now.'

"A-Ahem. Um...s-so, this- this is- th-those, um, those scrolls...well, um, l-let me- let's start a-at the, um, b-beginning." Four in, hold seven, out eight. Repeat. "The, um, th-the words at the top, th-that you see, there, um, 'Avoidant P-Personality Disorder', th-that- it's what- i-it's what...I have. And, um, th-"

"WOAH! Does that mean that you have, like, lots of ponies in your head?! Can I see can I can I can I?! I wanna meet 'em we can be bestestest friends!"

The way Fluttershy flinches, it's like she's been physically hit. Her stomach roils as a cold sweat breaks out on her brow.

And then Twilight does thump Pinkie on the back of the head, turning to Fluttershy with an awkward, apologetic smile. "Erm, please continue, Fluttershy."

'Oh, this WAS a bad idea! They're just going to LAUGH at me, and make fun of me, and- nonono, don't undo all of Doctor Cognition's hard work. Four in hold seven out eight four in, hold seven out eight four in hold seven, out eight four in, hold seven, out eight. Four in. Hold seven. Out eight. Okay.'

"...r-ri- right, um, s-s- s-so, um, i-it- th-the words, b-below, um, th-the top line, a-are from th-this stat-t- s-st- st-" Cheeks flaming red, she stares back down at her hooves, fiercely battling against the frantic urge to hide behind her mane, to run away, to never interact with anypony ever again. Instead, she takes another deep breath, and when she exhales, her tongue doesn't feel so...flippy.

"They're from someth- something called the D-Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of- o-of- of M-Mental Dis- D-Disorders. I-I wanted to-"

"Sugarcube, ain't nothin' 'disorderly' 'bout yer brain. Everypony gets anxious from time to time! You jus' got it a bit worse than most other folks. Ain't no need to give it a fancy ol' label to try an' make yerself feel like less of a freak; we love ya all the same," and the smile that the farmer gives is the same one she gives every time she says that she's always there for Fluttershy no matter what, freckles spread across her cheeks only amplifying the familiarity of the expression.

"Heck yeah! Sometimes you just feel a little bit down on yourself; even an awesome pony like me can understand that, Flutters! You just gotta pull yourself up by the tail and say 'hay, I'm pretty heckin' awesome!' and those blues will kick themselves out the door!"

She shakes her head frantically, enough that everypony shuts their mouths, even Pinkie Pie who looks like she'd been about to go off on a truly enormous tangent, a tangent that was going to be large even for Pinkie Pie. Tears well up in her eyes; if it weren't for the medication steadily coursing through her bloodstream, she would've been long gone from here by now.

"N-N-No, i-it-" A choked sob escapes her quivering lips, and she falls to the floor, covering her head with her hooves for just a few moments as she quietly chants to herself.

"In four hold seven out eight in four hold seven out eight in four, hold seven out eight in four, hold seven, out eight. In four, hold seven, out eight. In four. Hold seven. Out eigh-EEP!"

When the familiar purple shimmer of Twilight Sparkle's magic fills her vision and forcibly uncurls her, her shrill cry nearly does shatter the windows, her tears increasing until they're flooding down her cheeks, leaving darkened tracks in their wake. The unicorn steps up to her with a caring smile, gently wiping the crystalline mess away before petting her mane in a soothing manner.

"Oh, Fluttershy..."

Despite the...brash method...that Twilight had used to get her attention, Fluttershy's heart stops, hope shining through the despair for a few seconds.

'Twilight's smart, she won't say anything that'll hurt m-'

"Fluttershy, why didn't you tell us- tell me about this sooner?" Her magic sets the yellow pegasus down, gently, upon the cottage floor, as her hoof comes up once more to wipe at Fluttershy's tears.

She sniffles weakly, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the snot starting to dribble from her nose. She doesn't dare glance towards Rarity. She knows that the fashionable pony's already turning away in absolute disgust, she just knows it, and she can't even blame her, because 'Rarity isn't shallow for it, I'm the disgusting and pathetic creature that can't go more than five seconds without turning into some stupid foal, I deserve to be alo-'

"After all, once you talk about it, you can get over it that much quicker!" That smile doesn't change, and her words aren't spoken with a cruel tone, nor are they sarcastic; she genuinely believes everything she's said and continues to say. "It's all in your head, Fluttershy, and trust me, I know just how you feel. I used to be nervous around Princess Celestia all the time, and sometimes, I still am! But after years of studying with her, and writing letters to her, and talking to her and others about it, I'm over it!"

Fluttershy's heart stops again as a cold, dead weight sinks to the bottom of it.

"...g-get...g-get o-over...i-it...?"

"Well, yeah! It's a little hard at first. Like I said, I know exactly what you're going through right now. I mean, I never cried about it, but I used to get these crazy breakouts, and some days I really felt like crying!" A small laugh leaves her as she briefly reminisces before she shakes her head to return to the present.

"B-But it- m-my th- th-therap- therapist- th-therapist s-s-sai-"

"Woah woah woah WOAH WOAH WOAH you have a THERAPIST?! So you're a crazy pony?! You gotta tell me what that's like! Did they put you in a white cell with padded walls? What's a straitjacket like?! Did it make you go MORE crazy? Did you get even MORE ponies in your head? Did ymmpffhmmph?"

Rainbow Dash shoves a cookie into her muzzle, prompting a sigh of relief from four of the ponies in the room.

She turns to say something to Fluttershy, but the bang of the cottage door hitting the wall as it flies open echoes throughout the living room as they catch the tip of a pink tail leaving through it, heaving sobs accompanying the frantic, uneven wingbeats of the pegasus.

Author's Note

PLEASE NOTE: Not all people deal with panic attacks and/or their triggers in the same way. Do NOT assume any person's coping mechanism(s) or you run the VERY REAL and VERY, VERY SERIOUS risk of further damaging and further traumatizing that person. ALWAYS ask beforehand, and if it's too late for that, attempt to keep up communication during the crisis. Afterwards, make a crisis plan, and keep it on hand for future situations.

Also, don't be a dick about mental illnesses. They're hard to talk about, and it costs zero dollars to do a Google search and to go on some forums to talk to real live people about how to talk to other real live people about their mental illnesses. In addition: You are NEVER privy to a stranger's private life. They do NOT owe you information on their mental illnesses, experiences, and/or traumas. If they share it with you, great! If not, mind your damn business.

(P.S. If you've got AVPD and you feel that I've screwed up the portrayal of this disorder horribly, please let me know. I like to think that I've done my research well, but I'm not perfect, and I'm always open to constructive criticism. You don't need to be nice; as long as it's constructive, I'm happy.)