Author's Notes:

Link to good music to listen to for this update:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2J945IslQHg&list=PLnpIGDCblPQW3nTFaswp0n8-zC_NM9_Jn

Wednesday, August 11, 1948
Pinkie’s Room, the Basement of Sugarcube Corner

Pinkie Pie perused the files that sat in the many filing cabinets in her room. “Who’s birthday is it this week?” she asked to herself.

“It’s Silver Spoon’s idiot!” said a harsh voice in her head.

“Oh yeah! Silly me!” she said aloud to herself.

“You ought to make her cupcakes with grey colored frosting!” said a more polite, female voice.

“That’s another great idea! Thanks voices in my head!” she said.

Pinkie Pie knew that it was… unusual for a pony to hear voices in her head. However, her parents had told her when she was younger that it made her “special.” While some of the voices had a tendency to be mean to her, they were usually neutral or even polite sometimes, providing useful and unique insights into life.

Getting up, she walked over to the mirror and looked herself in the mirror. Her hair was straightened and hanging down beside her face. She had decided try out a new hair style and to take a break from her usual curly hair.
Her friends had been mixed in their reaction to the sudden change in hair style. Fluttershy and Rarity had been supportive, with the latter saying that it “gave you a new look.” Twilight and Applejack had pretended to be copasetic with the new hair style, Pinkie Pie could see right through their forced smiles. Only Dashie had been honest about her disapproval. She had even asked her if she was “feeling alright” and if she needed help.
“Its because she thinks you’re a nutjob!” said the gruff male voice in her head.
“No it’s not,” thought Pinkie Pie to herself, arguing with a figment of her imagination. Then she remembered when she had slip into a paranoid state several years before. Thinking that her friends had been avoiding her and had cast her out of their group of friends, she had thrown a party without them. Only this time, in the place of ponies, her guests were rocks and sacks of flours. She had even provided them with voices and had engaged them in a “conversation!” Fortunately only Rainbow Dash had witnessed that pathetic display of madness.
“Oh my goodness! What if they really do think I’m crazy!” exclaimed the party loving pony. “My hair style must remind Rainbow Dash of that episode.”
Grabbing a curling iron, Pinkie hastily curled her hair. While she hadn’t been able to completely return it back to its previous levels of curliness, she had been able to get it close enough.
“There! Just like before!”
“Curly or not, your friends still think you’re a psychotic,” said the angry voice in her head.
“My friends like me a lot! They’d like me no matter what.”
“Keep telling yourself that Pinkie. The truth is everypony you know is aware of your real nature.”
“Leave me alone!” she screamed. “My parents lo-”
“Your parents don’t love you. Your parents threw you in the looney bin for a month when you were 15 years old.”
Pinkie Pie shuddered when thinking about her brief stay in a local mental hospital. The voices in her head had been turning her into a paranoid. Eventually she had lost it one day at school and had begun laughing uncontrollably. Her uncontrollable and deranged laughter had landed her in the principal's office. Once her parents had found out they did what they claimed was “for her own good.” She was checked into the local mental hospital to be treated for “as long as necessary.”
Pinkie Pie had told them in her letters about the verbal and occasional physical abuse that she received. However, they hadn’t acted on those reports, telling her in their letters to her that these “minor slights” were “nothing more than delusions of hers.” It wasn’t until they had read about similar abuses of mental patients in The Equestrian Daily, Equestria’s biggest circulation newspaper, that they began to take her seriously. Despite being unable to prove that her allegations, her parents gave in and took her home. She still continued to receive weekly counseling from a psychiatrist at another institution. However, it was the kind and caring love of her (also somewhat eccentric) sisters that had made the difference in lifting the fun-loving ponies spirits.
In the ensuing years, she had vacillated back and forth from not hearing any voices to constantly hearing voices in her head, arguing back and forth continuously, taking turns insulting her, feeding her conspiratorial lies about the intentions of others around her, and complimenting her.
Turning her attention back to the abusive voice in her head, she said, “well I know that the Cake family likes me. They let me help out in running Sugarcube Corner and in taking care of their kids.”
“Why do you think that they instructed you take the day off.”
“It’s because they wanted me to rest and relax after working hard for them.”
“Wrong again! It’s because you’ve been acting weirder than usual.”
“It’s okay to be a ‘little weird.’”
“Not when you’re muttering to yourself in front of other ponies it isn’t. Not when you are openly arguing with voices only you can hear!” said another agitated voice in her head.
Pinkie Pie thought back to the past couple of weeks. The steady stream of summer tourists from the human world and from around Equestria had been keeping her and the Cakes busy from morning till evening. The voices in her head had made a forcible return, continuously jabbering in her head. Normally she had only talked to them when she was alone. But for some reason that she couldn’t remember, she had begun conversing with them even while others were around. Of course she had only been whispering to herself, well aware that if other ponies heard her, they would think that she was insane. Unfortunately, it appeared as though they had.
“It’s simple,” thought Pinkie Pie to herself. “I’ll just stop talking to myself. Also these voices aren’t real. I just have to ignore them, calm down and everything will be dandy. ”
If only it were that easy.