Name of Story: Bottled Happiness

Those of you who read my reviews know that I love to crack wise; I delight in making others laugh and I bring out my best game for the reviews because I want you to laugh and learn in equal measure.

It is possible to talk about addiction in a way that is both informative and funny. Jessa Reed threads this needle in spectacular fashion in her "This is not Happening" special on Comedy Central. Interested parties can see her work on YouTube, but I am not linking to that here.

Note: It is a shocking and vulgar piece, and it is not safe for ponies (NSFP). Trigger warning: it may involve drinking urine to get high.

So, I recognize that the subject can be managed in a number of ways, and I respect any piece that handles it from a place of authenticity. But, for me, I cannot joke about this. I have lost a brother and a best friend to addiction, and I no longer have it in me to make light of it.

And, you need to know this about me so that you can understand why I am reviewing this story the way that I am, and where my truth resides. I must represent myself in an authentic manner for this review to have any value.

Read this story. It is good. It has an air of authenticity about it, and it speaks to the lure of addiction in a very heartfelt and thoughtful way. This is not to say that the story does not have problems. No. But, on the balance, the positives greatly outweigh the problems.

On a scale of zero to muffin, I'd give it "playing fetch with your dog".

Pros:
1. This is a story that uses a kids show to discuss a heartbreaking and opaque subject, and it serves both masters with flair and style.

2. Addicts aren't stupid, and neither is Pinkie. So much of the "addiction horror" genre is filled with voyeuristic tourism that it is a great relief to see a genuine understanding of the addicts' perspective.

3. The writing itself is crisp and light, with little to distract the reader from the core of the story.

Cons:
1. There is no heartbreak here, nor is there the ache that addicts feel when they try to walk away. This strikes me as a missed opportunity.

2. It is sweet and tidy, and addiction isn't.

3. I just don't know. I want to love it, but I don't. I bring a lot of baggage to this review, so maybe it's me. Read it and see for yourself. Let me know your thoughts.

Notes:

Again, I come to this story with way too much insider knowledge of the subject. I am no stranger to drug use, and I have often marveled at the fact that I managed to survive my 20s. I lead a blessed life, because it still persists. I personally know six people who cannot say the same, and they cannot speak their truth because their addiction killed them. I know recovering addicts, and I know just as many addicts who didn't bother with recovery.

I have lived this life. I have walked a mile in these shoes.

What I love:

Yet, the second she saw them listed online, she placed an order. If she were Twilight, then she’d chalk it down to scientific curiosity. If she were Rarity, she’d blame it on a fad or a trend or something equally whimsical. If she were Applejack, it would be to improve productivity. But Pinkie was Pinkie, and she couldn’t quite pin down why she wanted to try them.

I'm glad the whole "peer pressure" route was skipped entirely. It always strikes me as trite and false. Not to say that peer pressure isn't a real thing, but it is frequently used like a club, without any subtlety. This is better, because this feels like a genuine and introspective approach.

It was as though a weight had been lifted from Pinkie. She felt floaty like a balloon, as though her hooves never quite touched the ground as she bounded her way to talk to Twilight and her friends. They wouldn’t notice anything odd about her, of course. There’s nothing wrong with being happy, after all! She smiled up at the sky. The pills did work, then! Hurray for drugs!

Hooray for drugs, indeed. That's the hook, right there. Drugs feel great. Addicts aren't stupid. They know that drugs make them pay a cost. They just want the high, and are willing to pay. A large number of people smoke tobacco, and it is not because they are stupid. They smoke because nicotine helps your brain maintain its focus, and it dampens your appetite; when you work a hard job with long hours, this is exactly what you might want to get through your shift. And being unemployed and homeless is harder on your body than cigarette smoke.

“I don’t think they have that much of an effect, Fluttershy, dearest,” reassured Rarity, propping up the pegasus with her magic. “I, for one, take one or two whenever I’m feeling particularly sad, or when the world is simply too much to handle! They help lift my spirits, and I haven’t noticed anything truly harmful about it. There’s nothing to worry about, so long as you follow the instructions.”

This is how you talk about peer-pressure. This is perfect. Also, Rarity sounds like she might be an extra on the set for "Desperate Housewives".

What would Princess Celestia do? Would she decide that Pinkie wasn’t worthy to be the Element of Laughter? Was there going to be some super unfun paperwork to do? Could she, reasonably, siphon it off to Twilight to fill out if there was?

The door creaked open ominously, as doors are wont to do. A guard cleared his throat, startling Pinkie out of her bounce-pacing. “Pinkie Pi-”

“Make Twilight do it!” She blurted, before blinking and smiling at the guard.

This is genuinely funny. I laughed. Pinkie is still Pinkie, and that's another important lesson. Addicts are still people (or Ponies) and too many stories set addicts as a "subhuman horror" to scare people into steering clear. This is better, because it is humanizing and sympathetic.

What I...don't love:

She had needed to increase her order, since she was taking them every day herself to be at her happiest, but she was careful to only take one a day, especially after Trixie’s… incident.

Starlight Glimmer had noticed it first. Both of them had been taking Happy Mints, but Trixie’s happy seemed a bit over-the-top. Everypony thought that maybe the pills just affected her more, but her reactions to the medication kept getting more extreme. It got to the point where nopony would see Trixie for a few days before she turned up giddy and bouncing in circles in somepony’s garden, mindlessly trampling their tulips and tiger lilies.

So. Trixie is as bad as it gets. I won't dismiss this effort as not genuine, and I can't quibble over the softball approach in a story that is rooted in the world of colorful cartoon ponies, but this is so far away from "as bad as it gets" that you have to use scientific notation to express the distance as a number.

And here, this is why you need to know me. I can't get 100% behind this story because I still carry the weight of my brother upon my shoulders. I live where I live today because I made plans to move to California to live with my best friend: and that whole plan hinged on his not being found, body bloated and ashen, dead on the floor of his apartment. So much of who I am today is because of who I was when they were alive. I cannot escape that.

But you can. You can read this part and laugh (because it is funny), and you can read this part and learn (because some people do not have the capability of saying that this is enough of the good thing - and they binge until they are no longer capable of saying anything). You can read this part and still love this story, because it is genuine and genuinely good.

She pulled Twilight into the bathroom and tugged her down underneath the sink. “Look, Twilight,” Pinkie mumbled, scooping out the pill bottles from where she’d stashed them. “These are mine, but I don’t really need them. Do you think I’ll be happier if I don’t take them anymore? Be honest, please.”

Twilight managed a crooked smile at her friend. “I do. I really do.”

“Then what am I waiting for?” Pinkie giggled with a forced grin, before opening the cap of one. “Help me out with this bit, Twi.” She held it over the toilet, her hoof hanging in the air in hesitation before tilting ever so slightly. First one, then two, then many more small smiling yellow pills tumbled into the toilet bowl. Pinkie laughed and reached for another bottle.

I have driven good friends to the methadone clinic. I have sat in AA and listened to my sister give a testimonial. She is a powerful public speaker, and she has a powerful story. Her story has lasted for much of her adult life, and she struggles every day to look in the mirror and allow herself to be an addict and still remain sober.

This is clean and tidy, and addiction isn't. Again: colorful cartoon ponies. I know. Equally true: we can't tell a single story about addiction and expect to cover the entire experience.

What I love is that this is a story about addiction, and it is a sympathetic one. It is told from a place of authenticity. We need more stories like this.

I recommend this story, but I can't say it's a Must Read. I don't know if that story is possible in Ponyville, frankly. It is a hard subject to cover.

And, reading back, I haven't given three words on the quality of the writing. It's very good; it has flaws but not so many that they get in the way. The plot moves briskly. The characters can be a bit wooden, but I do love how you use body language to express emotional content. It's good enough for fic.

Read this story. It's good. Feel free to discuss this in the comments, but give me a moment, ok? I need to go lie down for a bit.

EDIT: It's Jessa Reed, not Jessica. Jessa. Just in case you were frantically googling that name.

6586149
A damned fine review. Thanks for how much you put into it.

6586149
I've lost friends and relatives to addictions of various sorts, a lot of them self-medicating for depression, and have my own addiction problems for similar reasons. Also have an uncle who spent a lot of his life on the needle, got clean, and now works as an addiction counselor.

The story sounds like it should be interesting, and I'll definitely check it out, keeping your review in mind.

Incidentally, I'm also working on my own MLP fanfic involving addiction, which is quite a bit darker than this one. Don't know if I'll ever be able to publish it, though.

6586462

I hear you; there are so many reasons not to publish a story. I do hope that when the time comes you will submit it for a review, yeah?

6586149
Amazing that you put your heart out there in this review and allowed yourself to experience the hurt of your past without numbing yourself to it; it was personal and insightful, and all the better for it. You're awesome, Dr Blankflank.

6586474

If I do publish it, I will definitely be submitting it for review. That's a long way off, though.

6586691

Aw, shucks.

This story wasn't actually intended to be about drug addiction. It was more of an exploration into a sort of obsession with happiness than it was about drug addiction.
Still, I'm glad you enjoyed the story. Thank you for the review!