Social Anxiety is usually overlooked, and one pony stands against it. For a reason.
Class presentations, school projects, even the class play. My best friend was always struggling to get his words out. Now. Now it's time to tell this class, this teacher. The facts that my poor friend wanted to tell. But didn't have the strength to say.
Before class started. Cobalt Jet went to talk to our teacher about the presentations today. I secretly followed to hear what was being said. Not to exploit it, but to see if my presentation will have any effect. I got close to the door. It was cracked open.
"P-please, Ms. Cardinal, I can't p-present in front o-of everyone. I-I get really a-anxious...because I have s-social anxi-" Cobalt pleaded.
"Everypony gets nervous, you'll present today. Do I make myself clear?" Ms. Cardinal said firmly.
"I-it's not just being n-nervous. You don't u-understand." He replied.
"DO I make myself clear?" She repeated in her professional voice, emphasizing she doesn't care.
"I g-guess..." Cobalt whimpered, I hurried back to where we normally talked. The quiet area next to the library. Where nopony hung out. He had the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head, and I knew what that meant. He was going to cry. I quickly went up to him.
"It didn't go well did it?" I asked, he nodded weakly. Looking up at me, he wasn't crying. His eyes were hurt, but not wet. His jaw was clenched, as if he was trying to hold in a flood of emotion. I gently hugged him. I didn't think getting to high school would keep him in such a stink.
He didn't hug back. He sat the look still on his face. I had to resist doing anything to fulfil my hopes. He was my best friend. And I was his only friend. He had anxiety attacks in crowds. Sometimes just being in class was hard for him. This presentation might just set him over the edge.
I didn't want to see that. What could I do...? My presentation, intended to tell them what social anxiety does to a pony would be after Cobalt's. His was about psychiatric disasters and unethical experiments. I don't know if he'll get through the whole thing before he freezes up. I might have to intervene
He looked towards the courtyard area, where there were dozens of ponies chatting. Students, security, janitors, teachers. His head lowered. I lifted his chin up, "Hey, you'll be okay. I want you to know that even if everyone else is laughing, I'll be silent. I'll be hoping you can get through this. You need to be strong. Do it for me, not for the grade. Please?"
"But..Greyscale...I can't. You know that." Cobalt said hopelessly. Then an idea hit me.
"Pretend you're presenting to me. I sit in the back in the middle. Focus on me and you'll be fine. You never stutter when talking to me. So present like you're speaking to me. You can do that right?"
"Maybe. What if I mess up? What if I'm too quiet? What if.." I gently covered his mouth.
"Worrying about 'what if' is a mistake. Focus on 'I can'. Think of things you're good at when it comes to these presentations." I say kindly.
He thinks, "I can do great research, I can focus, I can hide my fear. I can do this. I can." He says going from weakly muttering to determinedly speaking.
"There you go. Just keep your eyes at my eyes. And you can do this!" I say getting him to stand confidently. He smiles.
"What did I do to earn your support?" He asked.
"You are my friend, right? Obviously friends must work as a team."
"Damn straight." He says.
My jaw drops.
He never swears.
Unless he is...
Confident.
We sit down, waiting for the presentation. He looks determined. Unafraid. For he has a tactic. He looks at me and winks as his name is called. He trots up with a smile. And looks right at me as his PowerPoint begins.
He begins to speak, no stutters and perfect volume. "My presentation is about the unethical psychological experiments conducted in history. Such as the Stagford Prison Experiments. Where men were given roles as guards and prisoners. But the experiment let the guards enact violent actions against the prisoners."
He was doing well, I flash a smile. He seems to be happy with this reaction. He suddenly looks across the room and says.
"Most of these experiments were conducted because of a misunderstanding. Power structures are around us all the time, and trying to prove that they are bad is a mistake. Thus, I believe we have to restructure for future experimentations."
His eye lock back in on mine, and I understand what he did. He made himself look around so he wouldn't call attention to who he was looking at. Smart.
He smiles as he says, "...Furthermore, anyone in here could one day be a participant in a study without consent. Some ponies could even consider stalking a pony as naturalistic observations. Which is bizarre if you think about it. Because I can affirm that none of you would like to be observed without consent."
He managed to finish the presentation. And even answered a few questions without problems. He sat down in his seat next to me. And whispered "Thank you."
But that was only half of the help I'd be giving him.
I stood up, my name being called for my presentation. This wasn't as hard for me as it was for Cobalt. Hut this would be a big help in his life. I know it. Because he just gave me something to work into my presentation. He successfully hid his anxiety for a presentation. I can find a way to help bring awareness. Mostly to our teacher, Ms. Cardinal.
I began, "Today, I will be presenting to you all, about something you may mistake for being shy, or nervous. Social Anxiety. You may have heard the phrase, but if you knew what it was and what it meant. Maybe you wouldn't brush it aside? Social Anxiety, the mental illness, can be as weak as being afraid of eyes being on you and the judgement of those the eyes belong to. To fearing crowds and interaction with others."
Cobalt looked stunned. I guess he didn't know what I was presenting. Because I didn't feel the need to practice this.
"For example, the pony who presented before me. He is my best friend, and he has social anxiety. He fears your judgement. But you all watched him present without issue, right? How can that be? Because he isn't suffering from the harshest forms of social anxiety. He was able to look past your possible judgement. Even without help from our teacher."
Ms. Cardinal now wore a look of shock, probably from being called out as unhelpful to others.
"She, like many of you may say, thought my poor friend was just nervous-" I added some bitterness to my voice, to show how awful that was, "-but you'd be wrong. It's a fear. A legitimate, paralyzing fear for many out there. Next to heights it is the most common fear. And yet, we still brush it aside. Is it because we assume that our only true mental illnesses must be Schizophrenia? Depression? Dementia? Psychosis? Or is it because we just don't understand the struggles of those who battle such a fear? Any questions?"
The teacher immediately spoke, "In what way is Social Anxiety a mental illness?"
"Good Question, but aren't you a psychology teacher? Shouldn't you understand what such a thing is and how it affects ponies? You can't be seriously asking me, a student, to tell you this." Students laughed and did the signature 'Oooh'.
She glared daggers, "You get an A on the project, but you also get a trip to the detention room."
"What? Why?"
"Insulting a teacher. That's against school codes."
"NO!"
I looked to see who stuck up for me. The one standing... was Cobalt.
"He doesn't deserve detention for that. It's not his fault you can't understand ponies who aren't as lucky as you to have no issue's with speaking!"
She opened her mouth to respond.
"NO! I'm not done yet Ms. Cardinal. You barely care about your students. If I'm not mistaken, you have a student commit suicide last year, and this year you barely ever ask students if they are okay if they show signs of problems. Steel Rig has bruises every day, did you ask if he was having trouble at home? I'll bet not! Clear Crystals has scars up her hooves, do you even care? Probably not. What about Greyscale's PTSD from the hurricane he nearly died in when he was 6? You aren't teaching for the kids, you're teach for that PAYCHECK. Otherwise Sandstorm's BPD would've been addressed!"
The class went quiet. Staring in shock. Ms. Cardinal looks at the students Cobalt mentioned. The scars were clear as day on Crystal's hooves. The black eye Steel had stuck out like a sore thumb. Sandstorm looked down towards the ground, confirming what Cobalt said with a small "He's not wrong..."
"Get out. Both of you. Detention." She snarled.
We walked towards the detention room. Cobalt stopped me for a moment. "I'm sorry to have brought up your problems. I was...trying to make a point."
"I get it. I did the same with your social anxiety. We're even. But how'd you know Steel was being abused, Crystal was depressed, and Sandstorm had BPD?"
"They meet the qualifications. Steel flinches every time some goes from a high hoof or throws a ball in gym. He also has a few journal entries I've seen where he talks about what his dad does to him. Crystal was tough to understand until I saw her being harassed by those preppy mares in the cafeteria. Then it all made sense. She's been outcasted. Sandstorm goes through mood swings, has made dozens of impulsive decisions, and never had a stable relationship."
"Wow. You're an observer." I replied continuing the walk to detention.
"Yeah. I look around a lot. Hoping that the ponies around me aren't unlucky enough to have problems like we do." He said, sounding so gentle. I wished I could tell him.
