An Even Worse Self Insert

by ROBCakeran53

14: Don't Fence Me In

Author's Note:

I'm not sure if it makes total sense. The time gap between writing the first half of this chapter and the second half is like, 6 months or so.

Oh well.

“Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above
Don't fence me in.
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don't fence me in.”

When do you realize that depression is actually affecting your life?

People tend to bring up the idea of depression, sadness, worry and anxiety like it’s just a thing. Thirty plus years ago, they were moods you went through and just got over. Since then technology has boomed, people have become more social online than face to face, and we’ve gotten more braud with our feelings as a people, and voice more when we’re not the focal point.

I used to turn to alcohol as a fun thing to do when I was bored. As the years rolled by, that shifted to wanting to feel nothing, least of all fun. Social drinking was a norm, but now drinking alone has taken over most of my spare, free time that when I go out to drink with friends, all I do is complain about the prices.

Yeah, I could buy a fifth of Jack for cheaper than I just paid at this bar, but the point is I’m out socializing, not sitting alone in my home drinking away my night.

Or is it when you’re sober, and you find yourself looking for any excuse during the day to say “gosh I need a drink?” At the days end, with hard work, sweat, and high blood pressure, you just need something to take the edge off and unwind. One drink becomes two, then four, then next thing you know you’re waking up in bed, thirsty and eyes blurred from dehydration.

They say you should drink a glass of water for every alcoholic beverage.

I say that’s what ice is for.

Of course, when you’re living off of twenty plus year old wine from your dead grandmother’s house, beggars can’t be choosers, and you have some respect for wine that you don’t ice it down.

Some of the wine, however, does need some vigorous shaking to mix up the chunks floating around in the bottles. So long as I don’t drink another bottle of vinegar, I’ll be okay.

Probably.

No, not really.

“These gals singin’, with this feller here, remind me of my Granny Smith ‘nd her friends. Used to sing a lot when I was little.”

I have to force some heavy blinks to clear the mist from my eyes, probably an early sign of something wrong with my body, but I’ve ignored it as long as I can remember. Turning to my left, I see an orange pony wearing a stetson hat sipping at a glass of…

“The hell did you find whiskey?” I ask, shocked.

“I brought my own.”

I blink again, struggling to get my vision adjusted properly. I lick my lips, dry and cracked.

“Want some?”

She’s a goddamn mind reader.

“I’d never turn down some whiskey or bourbon. I got some old ass wine to share, or if you’re adventurous, some mexican tequila.”

The mare smirked. “Tequila, eh? Sure, why not. Been a while.”

I reach down to my right, grabbing the bottle of tequila and a dirty glass. Giving it a quick once over with a piece of paper towel and spit, I hand it to the mare and pour in some of the clear liquid. In turn, she hoofs over her half full glass of amber goodness, not even bothering to get me a different glass.

Mare of my own heart.

I watch as she takes a generous drink, and gives out a pleased sigh as she licks her lips.

“Damn.” That’s all I can say.

“It’s pretty good, actually.” She takes another sip.

I take a small sip of the glass she hoofed me, and oh is it smooth. I can’t think of a smoother drink in recent memory.

“That’s good stuff.”

“Thanks.”

“What is it?” I ask.

I’m completely shocked when she shrugs. “Dunno. Been in our cellar for decades. No label, probably somethin’ Pa made.”

I feel like asking more, but decide against it. “This is good. I haven’t had anything this smooth in ages. Not since my friend’s brother got out of the Navy, and shared his special bottle with us.”

She nodded at that, placing her now empty glass in my open left hand. I took that as my que to take one more sip of her drink, and hand it back to her.

“Thank you for sharing.”

“Likewise,” she tips her hat, returning to her own drink.

It’s been one of those nights where I’ve had too much time to think. Things have changed, time has jumped ahead by months. I thought after Rarity, maybe she’d had some brains and told everyone else to just stay away.

And now, here we are again. Months passed, and suddenly I got a pony here.

“What took so long?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Busy at the farm, savin’ Equestria, the usual stuff. Wasn’t ‘till a girl’s night and we all got talkin’ did you come up, and she got all down. She didn’t wanna ask one of us, but I knew she wanted ta, so I offered.”

I tipped my glass at her. “Well, cheers for friendship and all that shit it entails.”

She clinked her glass against mine, and we both drank.

By now, the record had stopped, so I stood to restart it.

“That’s nice, electric, I take it?”

I nodded. “I do have a crank one, but since I only have steel needles for it, I try to not use it.”

Applejack nodded. “Yeah, I hear ya. We got fancy diamond ones, but I remember growin’ up with them metal ones. Destroyed the shellac after a few uses.”

My turn to nod as I sat. “Yeah, while we didn’t have much in the way of diamond tipped ones, we eventually found some cactus needles worked well.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well we don’t even have diamond tipped needles. They’re just made out of diamond, period.”

I blinked. “Oh, right, your guys’ concept of precious stones and metals are all out of whack.”

“And y’all take that fancy electricity for granted.”

“I’d argue that, cause my cabin has none, but I also conceded the point because I’m only there maybe a month’s time every year.”

She nodded as before, then went silent as she watched the record spin. Before long, she was also humming along with the song.

“It’s nice up there. Quiet, mostly, time to unwind. You only have a few basic things to worry about. Not like at home.”

“Just like when we go campin’.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Never cared for camping myself, but the idea is solid.”

“And I can’t understand wantin’ a cabin when you’d miss out on the night sky.”

I chuckled. “When it’s twenty below and you’re freezing your ba- er… tits off.”

I watched her visibly shudder. “Yeah, no thanks. We only camp in the nice seasons.”

“I go up to the cabin mostly during the winter, because it’s when I have the most chance of free time.”

“So what do ya do there?”

“Drink, shoot, and just laze around.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is.”

Silence took over, and I restarted the record. Sitting down on the couch, the mare let out a tired sigh.

“Alright, so I’m here for a reason, and I’m done beatin’ around the bush.”

“That’s good. Was wondering when the shouting would start.”

“I ain’t gonna yell at ya.”

“Rarity sure wanted to.”

“She’s also more… tempered.”

I raised a brow, looking at her.

“What? She is! She’s a lot quicker ta jump on her ‘motions. I’m here ta be the level headed one and tell ya straight.”

“Oh? And tell me what?”

“From the sound a’ things, ya ain’t right, sugarcube.”

My nearly empty glass suddenly became all the more interesting as I couldn’t look her in the face. Damn it, this is Appul Hoerse, I can’t… urg.

I was very biased. She was my top pone, and having her start lecturing me on things? Was this weird? It sure felt weird…

“Yeah, I know I’m not.”

“Then how do ya plan to fix things?”

I laughed. “Lots of time, lots of drink, and some bloody knuckles.”

“The drinkin’ ain’t gonna help ya none. One day yer gonna pay for it.”

“Too late.”

“Well then ya only need ta cut back more so!”

“Yes, because just telling someone they need to stop means they instantly will.”

She shook her head. “No, but seeing how it hurts others should. And lemme guess, you just up and ignore it, don’tcha?”

“No…”

“So you weren’t mean ta Twi? Callin’ her out and sayin’ she wasn’t real and because ‘o that, what she said didn’t matter?”

“What?”

“Were ya?”

“I never said-”

“But did ya mean it that way?”

“I don’t know, that was months ago!”

“So right now, am I real?”

“I don’t know!”

“So then does that mean what I tell ya don’t matter none?”

“No!”

Suddenly, she smiled, and folded her forelegs across her chest. “There ya go then. We’re real.”

I had to set my glass down, I was riled up now, and what she just said, and did… “That was bullshit. That was so quick I don’t even know what just happened.”

She patted my shoulder. “There there, happen’s ta the best stallions, I know.”

I froze.

“Yep, I did just make that joke.”

“I don’t know how much more of this mental abuse I can take.”

“Then how about ya quit it?”

“The mental abuse? I thought I had, then here you are.”

“No, not that. The drinkin, the gettin’ down on yerself. You ever have days where you don’t, and ya feel better for it?”

“Of course.”

“Then there ya go! Latch onta those days, and extend them. Make them weeks of feelin’ better. You’d be surprised how much things change.”

“That’s all and dandy, but what if I don’t want to?”

She blew a raspberry. “That’s a crock, and you know it.”

This time, I was actually confused. “I don’t follow.”

“Of course ya wanna quit. Deep down, ya do wanna be better, work towards a better, brighter goal than…” she waved her hooves at me, half naked on a broken down couch. “This.

“Ya just gotta work for it.”

“I do.”

She shook her head. “No, you just work. You don’t seem to have any sorta goal in mind. It’s all one big excuse for ya. Well, yer gettin’ ta the point you won’t be able to take it back.”

The record had stopped minutes ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand and restart it. Applejack was a earth pony, so no fancy magic. And honestly, I think the music was far from the mare’s mind.

“You’ve told Twi yerself. Ya wanna change, and don’t know how. Well, I’m here ta be honest with ya, and that’s just what I’mma doin’. Quit the drinkin’. Period. Ya can’t have the occasional one ‘cause then ya just fall right back into the well.

“Cut it completely, and suddenly you’ll find yerself better. Then, after enough time has passed and you’ve healed some wounds, then try the casual thing again. Faust knows you can’t go through life without a little sin here and there.”

It was so strange. My glass was empty, and the bottle was down at my feet. I wanted, needed, begged myself to pour another, but what Applejack had said to me…

“What if I’m just… not strong enough?”

“Then find yer friends and lean on them.”

“But what if…” I hesitated.

She looked at me with a raised brow, rolling her hoof to edge me to continue.

“They… don’t want to.”

“Bull.”

“Okay, they’ve told me I should cut back, or even quit, but that’s all. They don’t actively try to help, or be there, or anything. They just tell me how I should live my life, and it…”

“It’s wrong?”

I nodded. “It’s my life. I wanna live like this, then I’m gonna.”

“So you wanna jus be miserable all the time?”

“No! But I want someone to actually push me a little in showing they care!”

“Maybe they have? And you were just ignorant of it?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but paused, thinking.

“I’m… not sure. I don’t recall, but then again, a lot of them have basically cut a lot of contact with me to once a month or so.”

“Well, maybe look at it another way. Maybe they don’t push ya, cause they know you need to do this on yer own?”

“But aren’t I obvious enough to know I’m not? I… I can do a lot of things on my own, but some stuff…” I go quiet, shaking my head.

“Have you actually told any of them this?”

Again, I shake my head.

“Then maybe they don’t know? Or understand? And maybe, instead of you waiting for them to tell you to stop… maybe you need to approach them, and say it out loud yerself.”

That was… a good point, something that I want to say I had thought about once in a while, but didn’t really dwell on it. It was a quick thought if nothing else, there then gone in a moment.

“I always just… jump in when people need something. Helping my friends with car work. I tell them how it is, and what needs to be done.”

Applejack nodded. “So ya just expect them ta do the same with you?”

“I guess…”

“Well, I dunno about them fancy automo-whats its, but I can say, sometimes, our wagon has issues, and we’ll just ignore it. Sometimes, we bite the apple core and fix it on our own. Other times, it takes somepony else to point it out and tell us, somethin’s wrong.

“So maybe your problems are like that. Only… everypony is just not sure how to approach you with it. So, be the one to approach them.”

I stand, placing my empty glass on the floor, then motion to start the record again.

“What if they don’t want to?”

She shook her head. “If they’re any good o’ friends, they’ll wanna. Hay, just lookit us! Twilight’s back home worried yer gonna do something stupid but is scared to come herself so we’re all visitin’ ya.”

I sat down with a plop. “I didn’t mean to make her feel that way.”

Applejack nodded. “Yeah, I can tell. Yer just… you. Different in so many ways.”

Staring at the record as it spins, I lean back into the couch. “I just don’t get any of it.”

“Well, that’s life. We don’t always get any of it, or even some of it. We just strive for what matters to us.”

I listened to Bing Crosby sing more about his fence, and remembered our property up north. No fence up there, just open land with some woods in the back.

Comments

[Zaynal]

Glad to see this updated.