When Bright Thought had decided to become a therapist, she never thought she would ever be helping anyone important. True, everyone was important, but she had never imagined helping anyone that a majority of ponies found important, despite living in Canterlot. Even if she had fantasized, for a moment, of a high-class patient, it would not be straight out of school.
Yet her first client was to be a seventeen year old Princess. A severely traumatized and depressed seventeen year old Princess.
Bright Thought tried to look as professional as possible, considering this. Her brown coat shone and her wings were freshly preened, but her blonde mane and tail refused to stay tied down, leaving it looking as if she had just flown through a windstorm.
As she walked into the room, she took note of how bad her client looked. She’d been healing fairly well, but the bandages around her middle stood out more than the rest. Her coat was a dull pink, and her tri-colored mane hung limply, probably from being unable to take a proper shower. On the bright side, her mane did look brushed, which was a sign that she was well enough to brush it herself or that someone would come and do it for her. However, her wings were also well taken care of, which was more of a sign that she’d done it herself.
“I’m Doctor Bright Heart,” she introduced. “How are you feeling today?”
That only got her a glare from bloodshot violet eyes. She’d expected it, of course. It was a dumb question, since they both knew why she was here, why they were in a hospital room instead of her office. Even if she hadn’t been given the medical records, what had happened was still reported across the world. Still, she felt she had to ask, so she met the glare with her own green eyes.
“Have you gotten any sleep?” she asked.
There was a pause.
“Some,” Cadence answered. “Everything hurts too much.”
“Physically, or mentally?” she asked.
“Both,” was the answer. “It’s hard, when every movement hurts, but the painkillers make me drowsy enough to drift off.”
“But it’s not good sleep,” she said more than asked.
“No,” she admitted, turning her head as much as she dared. “There’s nightmares.”
“That will happen,” she nodded. “I know you don’t want to hear that, but it will. They’ll lessen with time, but it will still be hard sometimes, when it pops up unexpectedly.”
“Aren’t you supposed to make them stop?” she asked.
“Yes and no,” she said. “That isn’t what you want to hear either. I’m here to help you get to where it’s not a constant in your life, and to help you learn to handle it when it does come up. I’m here to talk to, without fear of judgment or anyone finding out, but also to guide you as much as I can.”
They were quiet for a moment. Bright Heart sat back, waiting for her to speak. Her patient stared out the window. They had time, and Bright was willing to wait.
“Do you want me to talk about it?” Cadence asked.
“Only if you want to,” Bright answered. “We can go as slow or as quick as you want. I’ll only push you if I think it’s best, and since this is our first session, that isn’t needed.”
She was quiet another moment.
“Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there,” Cadence said. “In the carriage. I can feel it all. I-I can’t really see anything, but I know their colors. I can see them tumbling past me. I can hear them, us, screaming. I can hear mom stop screaming. And when I wake up, I’m still there.”
“Flashbacks are natural,” Bright Thought said. “While it’s terrible, it’s normal to have flashbacks and nightmares. As for when you are in the middle of a Panic attack, you need to remember to breathe.”
“That seems obvious enough,” she huffed.
“True, but you’re panicking,” she said. “I want you to try now. Breathe in through your nose for four seconds, hold it for two, and then out through the mouth for another four.”
They sat for a minute, breathing in sync. In, hold, out.
“This helps you calm,” Bright Thought explained. “It will be harder to remember in the moment, but use it whenever you need to help stay calm, no matter how small. It will be easier to remember if you practice.”
“Anything else to help?” Cadence asked.
“Depends on the pony,” she said. “Some like when others touch them, either a comforting hug or a minor back rub of sorts, but others prefer to not be touched. Some like to have calming music or voice recordings. Others like doing something physical. You’re a musical pony, are you not? You could try tapping out a rhythm with your hooves to keep track of your breathing. Don’t be worried if you don’t find anything right away.”
“Is that all for today?” she asked.
“If you want it to be,” she said. “Or if you want to talk about something else, we can. We have a little longer before the medical doctors need to check on you.”
She went quiet again. Bright Thought could hear her using the exercise they’d just went over. She waited again.
“It doesn’t seem real,” Cadence said.
“That’s normal as well,” Bright Thought agreed. “They’re called ‘stages of grief’ for a reason, though they’re nowhere near as linear as ponies make them out to be.”
“I wish I got to say goodbye,” she continued. “I wonder if I-“
“As far as I know, Time Travel spells aren’t that good,” she said.
“No, not that,” she said. “It’s crossed my mind, but I know better than to mess with Time. But, well, you’re not allowed to tell anyone this, are you?”
“Everything here is confidential,” she nodded. “Not that I’d want to tell.”
“There’s a mirror,” she said. “It’s a portal to another world, actually, opening for a few days every thirty Moons. In this other world, everyone has a Counterpart. In theory, I could hop through there and see them again.”
“Assuming this is true,” she began, “you could do that. But I’d highly advise against it. They might be ‘your parents’, but they’re not ‘your parents’. You shouldn’t replace them with themselves.”
“I wasn’t planning to say there,” she defended. “I would just tell them goodbye, if I could. I know it’s not them, but it’s a chance for closure that I wouldn’t get here.”
“Maybe,” she said. “I’m not an expert on alternate Dimensions. But if it’s a world similar enough to ours that this would give you closure, you have to be prepared to think that their Counterparts might have died as well.”
“Stars, I hadn’t thought-“ she looked like she might be sick.
“Again, I don’t know if it’s the same or not,” she said. “Writing a goodbye message, even though they’ll never truly hear it, can be helpful. If their ‘Counterparts’ are still alive, there is a possibility of it helping, though since it’s never been tested I wouldn’t know. However, you shouldn’t hold onto it as your only hope.”
“Right,” she sighed.
“That said,” she continued. “Writing a letter of goodbyes might be helpful. If you want to try it out, I’m sure the hospital staff would give you something to write with.”
“I’ll think on it,” she agreed.
They looked up to the sound of the door opening. A Unicorn doctor poked her head in, almost sheepishly.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the Doctor said. “But we should be checking on you now.”
“That’s alright,” Bright Thought said before turning back to her client. “Would you like to take a break for today, or should I come back after the doctors are done?”
“I think I’d rather take a break for today,” Cadence answered.
“Alright then,” she nodded. “I’ll come back in a few days, and we can continue. But should you want me earlier, ask one of the doctors or nurses and they’ll track me down. But in the mean time, you can talk to others. I can’t tell anyone about what was said here, but there are support groups for ponies in similar situations, and if you’re uncomfortable with them, friends will usually lend an ear.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving the first smile she’d seen all day.
“Glad I could help,” she said.
Gathering up her things, she gave her goodbyes and walked out the door.