[JP] Commander Valen Carys & Mikali sh'Shar - Uglier Ways (Part III)
David Adams
((Counselling Suite, Iana Station))
Valen: All right. ::She nodded, took a deep breath and then continued on, watching Mikali for her reaction. Her voice was calm and empathetic, conscious of how painful her next words would be.:: Then the first thing you need to do is call your daughter and unpromise all those promises you made. Recovery doesn't come on a schedule, and it's not a side-effect of pursuing another goal.
Harsh and sharp, like a monomolecular knife delicately slicing up parts of her heart.
She didn't answer right away. For a moment, Mikali could not imagine saying these things, making an un-promise. Potentially disappointing Benna. She had considered her ability to do this to be a mark of change, of positive progress. It seemed like a step backward.
But the truth of Carys' words was undeniable.
sh'Shar: O-...kay. I will do that.
Her antenna drooped low, and she felt like she'd failed already. But Carys was right. She had to get through this without preconditions. There was no schedule for this and couldn't be.
She was there to help herself.
The Bajoran woman remained quiet, letting Mikali work through the emotions without interference. And she did; her composure cracked like an overloaded primary shield generator.
sh'Shar: I'll do it. I will. I'll let her know that I c-can't, can't promise that, and that it was wrong of me to-to try in the first place. I-I will... I will just have to find some way of— some way of... because you're right, you're right, of course you're right. And I will.
Valen: It wasn't wrong. You're a mother, it's quite natural to want to do things for your child. ::The correction was kind, but firm.:: But it was overambitious. In certain situations, promises to others can be barriers to what we need to do for ourselves.
It was true. Her promise was a barrier. Why didn't she think of that before? Why...
sh'Shar: I'm... I'm trying to build up credibility. Trust. And I try— I'm trying to say— if I promise something, I can do it, but— but— but you're right. You're right, of course. Of course you are!
Mikali buried her face in her hands, sobbing softly. Without a word, Carys reached beside her chair and leaned forward, placing a small box of tissues on the table in front of the weeping Andorian.
sh'Shar: Goddammit, I can't even organise a birthday party!
Valen: Yes, you can. But one that's within your means to organise. When you make promises or set yourself goals, they have to be achievable. A party on a starship is something that relies heavily on decisions outside of your control.
She could have a party. She just... couldn't promise it at a specific time. That was the key. Words she played over in her head. It wasn't the party, it was the promise.
sh'Shar took a couple of the tissues and wiped down her face, cleaning up as best she could.
sh'Shar: ::Sniffling,:: Sorry. This is hard for me. But I'm trying.
Valen: I know. ::This time she did offer a smile, nodding.:: You're here, after all.
sh'Shar: I... guess I am. I will let her know tonight. Not that it's off... just that I can't promise it, shifting into the "best effort" category versus the "promise" category. Would that be okay?
The question gave the counsellor pause, her lips pursing as she thought how to frame her answer. It wasn't unexpected; this was Mikali's first session and change didn't happen quickly or by osmosis. She needed time to recognise, understand and replace her own ingrained behaviours.
Valen: I'll be blunt; that's the addict in you, trying to bargain. I'll give you the best advice I can, help you develop the tools you need to make changes in your life. But you can't negotiate or shortcut your way past the parts that are tough to do.
No shortcuts.
Mikali appreciated the bluntness. She had always favoured direct, unambiguous speech, and hearing it in this context was paradoxically reassuring. If she was doing the wrong thing, and was being told so directly, then all she had to do was do a different thing.
sh'Shar: I just feel like... I feel like there are so many bad things in my history, that I'm... I'm pushing a rock up hill like some old Greek guy, you know?
Mikali had actually read a book about Human myths. Came with the territory of serving on a Prometheus-class ship, so named after the bringer of fire. Carys smiled, shaking her head, and light flashed across the fine chain links of her earring.
Valen: I'm afraid the reference is lost on me.
sh'Shar: It's... a guy is pushing a stone up a hill, it keeps falling down, he can't get it up the hill, it just keeps slipping out of his hands. I don't really remember.
The anthropologist in Carys was momentarily distracted, caught by the parallels between societies. There was a similar tale in Bajoran myth, about a woman cursed to empty a lake, but the rains fell and refilled it every time she got close. Greek, was it? She'd have to look it up when time permitted, but for now she nodded and acknowledged the point Mikali had made.
Valen: I can see how that feels like a parallel.
sh'Shar hesitated palpably, drawing her knees up to her chest, hooking her arms around them, trying to summon some comfort from the action. Un-promising Benna was going to be difficult—it was achingly painful to even think about, let alone do—but she had committed, and this was a commitment she could achieve.
She had to keep thinking it. Valen is right. This is the right decision.
sh'Shar: ::Firmly,:: Then I'll do it.
A bit of a silence hung in the air. Maybe a natural topic change. Mikali was glad she was not being pressed any further on the party; the thought of what she'd agreed to crushed her like a weight, and if she thought about it any further, she might back out.
sh'Shar: There were... two times in my life that I did very, very bad things and I was never punished for it. It's something I've tried to service with regard to to this recovery process—
Nope. There it was again. The language of rehab.
sh'Shar: Dammit! ... I mean, I've tried to approach getting better and fixing up my busted-arse life with being honest and hard working, because I can feel like, maybe, someone looking at the outside is going to say... "What a shady character, I wonder what she's hiding"? So my solution is to not have anything to hide. Probably, uhh, what's the word... "a maladaptive coping process".
Carys' eyebrows twitched up a small show of amusement at the choice of phrase. It wasn't what she'd call it, but more than that, her interest was drawn to how much Mikali was motivated by and cared about what other people thought of her. Measuring self-worth by the opinions of others was often a means to avoid taking an honest, hard look at oneself.
sh'Shar: But if you're saying that how I can stop "having to pretend" is to just try to focus on getting better, not atoning... is it worth talking about those two times, and why I got away with them... or is... it better that I just leave them in the past?
Valen: Would you like to talk about them?
She didn't, because they made her look terrible and cast significant doubt on the content of her character, but also felt that keeping them a secret for so long could not be good for her in the long term. If it came out that she had hidden parts of her past...
No shortcuts.
sh'Shar: Why not just... one. For now.
The Bajoran nodded, and Mikali put a blue hand over her face, paused for a moment, took a breath, and told her story.
TBC
--
Mikali sh'Shar
Civilian
ReachOut Project
O238704AT0
&
Commander Valen Carys
Anthropologist and Clinical Psychologist
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0