Outside of Counselor Ivan’s office, Jezem paused to run his hands over his tired face. Wrung-out, over-stretched and worn down. The calm of the storm that will return next week to whip through his life once again. Jezem pulled himself together enough to get out of the doorway and pad his way past countless other sterile doors in too bright and clean halls. The Starfleet complex was one of the ugliest buildings Jezem ever had the pleasure of seeing. He made it out of the counseling offices and into an open common area washed in natural light from various skylights and tall windows.

Jezem threw himself face first onto the first padded bench in his path. Too many thoughts and feelings still trapped in his head. Old trauma lingering like bruise on the skin. Pain, some long forgotten refreshed with recollection. The fear that he could never heal, never find this mysterious path forward towards healing that Counselor Ivan insists is there. Another fear, all this effort and nothing to show for it. No progress, no change. Same old him. No answer to Naanni’s question. No happiness and peace for him. Sisters, Eryn was right. People like them don’t find peace. They find contentment and hold onto it for as long as it lasts. Jezem sighed into the fake leather of the seat. It smelled like cleaner. Gross. He rolled over so he lay on his back, staring up at the sky above. Ah, then there was that overwhelming feeling of sadness and hopelessness.

What was that called again? Oh right, depression. Sisters, can he go back? To when he didn’t care about things like true happiness and finding himself.

Jezem