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muse_shuffle | April Disc One
21/4/09 14:43![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itwontstopme05. But they'll still look in your eyes
To find the human inside
You know there's always something in there to see
[‘There’s Always Someone Cool Than You’ – Ben Folds]
Canon past-scene, set cira Season 2
There are some days you just wake up and wonder why life decided to take a gigantic dump all over you. In that wake of my accident, I pretty much woke up every day like that, and went to sleep like that at night, too. It was hard for so many reasons, and compounded by the fact I more often than not felt like I was going to upset everyone close to me if I wasn't optimistic and hopeful. Yay, Jason would get his legs back in a miracle from God.
Bullshit.
It was bullshit and we all knew it. I knew it, and it became harder and harder as the days went on to keep up the positive facade. Like Herc said, I was a newborn baby. I had to learn how to do everything all over again and that was on top of trying to deal with the drowning feeling that I had lost everything and I was never going to get it back again. Mexico was my all or nothing moment and it helped me realise that being an alive cripple was better than being a dead one. I was only nineteen and was it really going to be such a tragedy to try and turn things around? Of course, it didn't help watching Tim and Lyla sucking face on the trip home, but that's a whole other story in itself. Once I made that choice, Dillon started to feel really oppressive.
Going back to the assistant coaching job with the Panthers just didn't feel the same anymore. I couldn't shake the notion of the other Coach; that I was nothing but a mascot to inspire the players. I mean, fuck. Sure, inspiration was a good thing, but I didn't want to be a damn mascot. I didn't want a job that was just offered as charity. I didn't want to be broken QB sitting there because he couldn't let go and had nothing better to do with his life. So, I quit. I missed it and I missed the team, but I was never going to get independence hiding under Coach's protective wing for the rest of my life. I needed to find who I was now, and that wasn't a football player.
I felt like my parents were watching my every move. I couldn't have a night out without them tearing me a new one for not calling them to tell them where I was. A one night stand isn't exactly something you want to call home and share with your Mom. So, I moved in with Herc. Herc was great, albeit as typically irritating as all hell. That was just Herc, though. I was used to him. But money became tight. If I was going to be independent, I needed an income. I just never expected it to be selling cars for goddamn Buddy Garrity. My ex-fiancee's father who had blatantly told me to my face I was going to be a burden to his precious daughter. It was money, though, and after being given the run-around by the other staff, I just tackled it like I would every other game I'd played.
And fucking hated it.
It felt like finding the new Jason Street was going to be an impossibility. Dillon didn't seem to have anything to offer someone who would never been part of the Panthers anymore. Truth was, I didn't even know where I was supposed to be starting to look to find myself. All my ambitions since I was a kid had laid in football, relied on my legs, which I would never have the use of again. What was I supposed to do? Where was I supposed to look? Did I do it alone? Should my disability be everyone else's burden? Did Buddy Garrity actually have a point?
Who knew. I just became increasingly aware that I might not find what I need in Dillon.
Word Count | 650
To find the human inside
You know there's always something in there to see
[‘There’s Always Someone Cool Than You’ – Ben Folds]
Canon past-scene, set cira Season 2
There are some days you just wake up and wonder why life decided to take a gigantic dump all over you. In that wake of my accident, I pretty much woke up every day like that, and went to sleep like that at night, too. It was hard for so many reasons, and compounded by the fact I more often than not felt like I was going to upset everyone close to me if I wasn't optimistic and hopeful. Yay, Jason would get his legs back in a miracle from God.
Bullshit.
It was bullshit and we all knew it. I knew it, and it became harder and harder as the days went on to keep up the positive facade. Like Herc said, I was a newborn baby. I had to learn how to do everything all over again and that was on top of trying to deal with the drowning feeling that I had lost everything and I was never going to get it back again. Mexico was my all or nothing moment and it helped me realise that being an alive cripple was better than being a dead one. I was only nineteen and was it really going to be such a tragedy to try and turn things around? Of course, it didn't help watching Tim and Lyla sucking face on the trip home, but that's a whole other story in itself. Once I made that choice, Dillon started to feel really oppressive.
Going back to the assistant coaching job with the Panthers just didn't feel the same anymore. I couldn't shake the notion of the other Coach; that I was nothing but a mascot to inspire the players. I mean, fuck. Sure, inspiration was a good thing, but I didn't want to be a damn mascot. I didn't want a job that was just offered as charity. I didn't want to be broken QB sitting there because he couldn't let go and had nothing better to do with his life. So, I quit. I missed it and I missed the team, but I was never going to get independence hiding under Coach's protective wing for the rest of my life. I needed to find who I was now, and that wasn't a football player.
I felt like my parents were watching my every move. I couldn't have a night out without them tearing me a new one for not calling them to tell them where I was. A one night stand isn't exactly something you want to call home and share with your Mom. So, I moved in with Herc. Herc was great, albeit as typically irritating as all hell. That was just Herc, though. I was used to him. But money became tight. If I was going to be independent, I needed an income. I just never expected it to be selling cars for goddamn Buddy Garrity. My ex-fiancee's father who had blatantly told me to my face I was going to be a burden to his precious daughter. It was money, though, and after being given the run-around by the other staff, I just tackled it like I would every other game I'd played.
And fucking hated it.
It felt like finding the new Jason Street was going to be an impossibility. Dillon didn't seem to have anything to offer someone who would never been part of the Panthers anymore. Truth was, I didn't even know where I was supposed to be starting to look to find myself. All my ambitions since I was a kid had laid in football, relied on my legs, which I would never have the use of again. What was I supposed to do? Where was I supposed to look? Did I do it alone? Should my disability be everyone else's burden? Did Buddy Garrity actually have a point?
Who knew. I just became increasingly aware that I might not find what I need in Dillon.
Word Count | 650
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