Posted by Commander Shedda Mal’athar (Executive Officer) in side sim - Sair’s Office, Performance Review

Posted by Civilian Sair Songz (Counselor) in side sim - Sair’s Office, Performance Review

Posted by Commander Shedda Mal’athar (Executive Officer) in side sim - Sair’s Office, Performance Review
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)

Sair couldn’t help but grin. “Not sure we need to do anything about that one. It sounds like something they will sort out on their own. If conflict arises because of it, well, it might move up the chain of command, but I suspect it won’t.”

For a moment Sair was going to jump into the next file but instead the padd settled back onto her lap and Sair looked at Shedda. “Can I confide something personal to you?”

~Sair Songz, CNS

Shedda shook her head as she sipped her coffee, “I think Yost enjoys the chance to be creative in his evaluations. That’s not a bad a thing.” Shedda glanced up at Sair and set her PaDD and coffee down. “Of course.” She folded her hands into her lap giving the counselor her full attention.

Mal’athar, XO

Sair should have just said it, but it was strangely harder than she thought it would be. Why was that anyway? Was it because she was a counsellor and it was strangely humbling and maybe embarrassing to not have seen it herself? It was something she was mindful of. “As a society, Kobliads have to be looked at with a bit of a different lens regarding mental health. Because the reality is that we are all deeply affected by generational trauma. It’s so deep Shedda that it’s almost expected that most if not all Kobliads have some sort of depression or anxiety. We have operated for several generations now in a state of dysthmia. It’s a state of chronic depression that sort of means you operate at a lower emotional and energetic state as your baseline. And having treated numerous of my people, I agree. But when we got the cure, we started to experience a bit of hope, so on the whole our society’s energetic baseline had risen a little.”

She blew out a breath and gazed at the XO. “My mother thinks I’ve become depressed since I arrived here. Something beyond our normal baseline dysthmia. I want to say she’s wrong, but I’m a little bit afraid she might be right.”

~Sair Songz, CNS

Shedda listened quietly, a thoughtful expression on her face. She knew the phenomenon Sair was talking about, dysthmia, having studied information about it in her archeological studies courses. “Do you have any thoughts on what might be making you feel more depressed than your baseline?” Shedda was not a counselor, but she was more than willing to listen and talk with Sair and see if they could help her. She was very far from home, in a very different situation than she’d found herself before, and possibly feeling isolated. Shedda could only shoot in the dark though as far as speculating on the cause.

Mal’athar, XO

Sair shook her head a little, he gaze drifting elsewhere. “It’s not my first stint in the exchange program, but last time I was a Doctor. There’s something about spending your days with people doing the same work and then commiserating afterwards socially that just naturally happens. It was normal back on Kobliad too when I worked at the hospital, even as a counsellor. But this time out here is different, even with my mother here. Koro makes a lot better, but now I’m not only a civilian on a Starfleet ship who is basically a department of one, but I’m a single mother. People avoid seeing me professionally if they can help it, and socially I don’t have a place here. I’m starting to wonder if this was a bad idea.”

~Sair Songz, CNS

Shedda listened quietly. Repeat back what was said to make sure you understood. “You’re feeling isolated? Professionally and personally?”

That was the basic outline of the situation but there weren’t words to fully encompass everything.

“I guess first I would suggest that you reach out to some of the other medical staff that are trained counselors. There are too many people for you to handle all the work yourself. Even if just for a consultation to get another perspective. You are considered part of the medical staff.......” Shedda paused, “Would it help to move your office closer to medical so it’s easer to access the other medical staff?”

“I would also say that you aren’t just a department of one, you are part of the senior staff. I know that on my last ship, learning to be both in command and a department head and a scientist I would forget that I was all those things and that they can compliment each other. So you are a doctor and the counselor, but you have a lot of experience as a professional and as a person. That is valuable to the senior staff team.”

“As for personally....I know I have looked at a lot of this while waiting to hear about Maava. The school sets up parents’ nights, there are socials, family nights. You are a single parent, but you aren’t the only parent on board. I’m sure you have something in common with at least one other parent. We have lost of hobby groups on board you could try. But my best advice is to join things, don’t wait to be asked.”

“BUT Sair,” Shedda paused and met her gaze for a moment. “If you are truly feel this is not the best place for you, you must do what is best for you and Koro. But if you feel that Manhattan is the place, I will do my absolute best to help you settle into your place here.”

Shedda

All of Ma;’athar’s suggestions were very practical solutions but somehow they didn’t make Sair feel better. Rising from her seat, she crossed the room to the side of the mika tree, reaching her fingers out to caress the white dolomite leaves of the statue. “Amito qon do temz…” she said with clear reverence, the words loosely translated by their communicators as ‘service to the realm’. “It’s a saying embedded into every facet of our society. It is the compunction to set yourself to the side for the betterment of the whole. And it’s been necessary. Most Kobliads die between age fifty and eighty years old. I’m forty-two. Granted, I have the most ideal metabolism a Kobliad born with our condition can have.” She turned to face Shedda. “I’m a Super-Celler. My body processes dueridium the best and thus I need less frequent doses. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have the same issues, that my body is not a ticking time bomb waiting to fall apart. I got the genetic treatment, but it doesn’t work on me, only on any children I bear. When I left Kobliad the first time, I had this wonderful idea in my head of having as many babies as possible. But then it was so hard to stay pregnant long enough to carry a baby to term that by the time I had Koro I realized I would miss so much. I’m trying to make the most of what little of my life I have left, but I’m on my own Shedda. I left Kobliad because the weight of the collective grief was too much, unbearable. But out here, I struggle to make connection in a way I never did before. And I think it’s because I realize that it’s very fleeting. It can’t last because I will die long before anyone I connect with. My metabolism has already started to decline. The terrible thing about being a doctor by training is that I can tell. I watched enough people fade away to know the signs. And all I can think is ‘what about Koro’? What sort of life have I consigned him with when all his family will be gone by the time he reaches adulthood. And now I’ve left Kobliad where we all understand that state of being. But I can’t go back either! I walked away. This exchange program was designed for my people to get out, connect with other cultures more and bring back knowledge so we can rebuild our society. And I did that for a little while. I returned. But I ran away and I can’t go back. I chose myself over my society and now what?” She gazed back at the tree statue, tears blurring her vision. ” I don’t know if this is where I’m meant to be or not. All I know is I broke our most important rule and no I don’t know where I belong.”

~Sair Songz, CNS