148: theatrical_muse 270
Thirteen.
Thirteen years ago was 1996. Thirteen years and a few months ago, I was on leave from the Fugitive team, starting as a scrub at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia. At the bottom of my life, at the end of my rope, searching for a reason to believe. It's not something I'm eager to revisit.
It was an interesting time of self-discovery for me. I had all these things that I believed to be true, but they were always defined by other people. My father's ideas, my partner's methodologies. My crisis of faith had stripped that all from me, and I had to ask myself if I really was who I wanted to be, and what I really believed in. I had an amazing support network of people - my brother, my sister, Vic, Robert Beckner, Jeff Gabriel and his son Chris - but all of them reminded me that if I didn't believe in what I was doing, and know who I was, it was all for nothing.
I took all my classes at Quantico during the day. At night, I was either at the gym, or home studying, or if I had time I'd see my brother or my sister for dinner. I was commuting from Baltimore to Virginia, which didn't make things any easier. But I put myself in a sort of self-imposed isolation, trying to figure out where it all went wrong and how to make it go right. I knew I wanted to become a better hostage negotiator, an emotionally stronger agent, and once I set those goals I would do anything to reach them. One family trait that never left me: stubbornness.
Thirteen years ago I was pushing myself to and beyond my limits in order to convince myself I had a career worth saving. Now I know that it's not about my career. Now, I know it's about who I am. And I really love who I am, in ways I never could have imagined. I'll never feel that alone again.
Muse: Stark Patrick
Fandom: The X-Files (OC)
Words: 338
Thirteen years ago was 1996. Thirteen years and a few months ago, I was on leave from the Fugitive team, starting as a scrub at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia. At the bottom of my life, at the end of my rope, searching for a reason to believe. It's not something I'm eager to revisit.
It was an interesting time of self-discovery for me. I had all these things that I believed to be true, but they were always defined by other people. My father's ideas, my partner's methodologies. My crisis of faith had stripped that all from me, and I had to ask myself if I really was who I wanted to be, and what I really believed in. I had an amazing support network of people - my brother, my sister, Vic, Robert Beckner, Jeff Gabriel and his son Chris - but all of them reminded me that if I didn't believe in what I was doing, and know who I was, it was all for nothing.
I took all my classes at Quantico during the day. At night, I was either at the gym, or home studying, or if I had time I'd see my brother or my sister for dinner. I was commuting from Baltimore to Virginia, which didn't make things any easier. But I put myself in a sort of self-imposed isolation, trying to figure out where it all went wrong and how to make it go right. I knew I wanted to become a better hostage negotiator, an emotionally stronger agent, and once I set those goals I would do anything to reach them. One family trait that never left me: stubbornness.
Thirteen years ago I was pushing myself to and beyond my limits in order to convince myself I had a career worth saving. Now I know that it's not about my career. Now, I know it's about who I am. And I really love who I am, in ways I never could have imagined. I'll never feel that alone again.
Muse: Stark Patrick
Fandom: The X-Files (OC)
Words: 338