Post by Alysson Gardner on Apr 12, 2011 17:44:05 GMT -6
Alysson: It's been a long time since I've opened my heart like this. I'm extremely uncomfortable.
Please, don't enter this room. Yes, keep this camcorder out of here. I"m at my psychologist's office and this is so embarassing.
Doctor: I'm here to help you get your mind straight, Alysson. Go ahead and tell me what your problem is.
Alysson: I... I somehow feel I've lost passion. For everything. You know? The... The anti-depressants that I take regularly are no longer affecting me, and I feel that my soul has been drown into this pool of vanity, avarice and sorrow.
Doctor: Maybe your blood has accostumed itself to the anti-depressants. You should talk to a--
Alysson: No, no, hear me out!... I... I've been in this wrestling industry for over eight years, you know, but... This is the first time that I feel that I'm only doing it because... I'm there. Yanno? I'm in the arena, there's a ring, there's someone to fight with, so let's get this done with and go home. There's no more joy to it, like it used to have. I... I can't even hear the crowd anymore, even though I know they're booing me to death.
Doctor: And do you know if there's anything that has happened in the past, or has been happening currently that is making your joy of wrestling fade away like this?
Alysson: I'm pretty sure it has something to do with this mission I've created to myself.
Doctor: A mission?
Alysson: Yeah, like... You see, I hate my brother. You know Christian, don't you? He... He destroyed my career. He made me wanna kill myself when he decided to play with my career like he did. He... He shifted me from one section of the company to another, and he never asked me for a opinion. All he cared about was fame.
Doctor: Your fame, right?
Alysson: ... yes, my fame. But I didn't want to have this fame of being just an eyecandy that defends championships in wet tee contests!
Doctor: I see. So I take it your brother shifting you from divisions was a major blow to your pride.
Alysson: Exactly that.
Doctor: Have you ever thought of it as the exact contrary? Try picturing this: your brother trying to deconstruct your image of a hard-hitting amazon, only to show people that you could ALSO be a very pretty face.
Alysson: ... are you f***ing kidding me, doc?
Doctor: I wish I were. Either way, you need to let your frustrations out some OTHER way, because all this envy of your brother is consuming you from the inside out.
Alysson: Don't tell me to start a gym, doctor. I already beat people up for a living, you KNOW.
Doctor: No, no, no. What I meant to tell you is this: this self-imposed crusade of yours against your brother is getting the best of you because, deep inside, you still love and respect the one man you've been calling a jerk all this time. Face it, Alysson - your reason and your heart are diverging so badly it shows in your eyes.
Somehow that's basically it. I won't deny it, he's right. But at the same time, I can't let it go.
Alysson: I'm sorry, doctor, not happening. I need to make my brother deel in his skin what he did to me. Only then my heart will be in piece. After he's been embarassed enough he'll actually look at me and say he's sorry.
Doctor: So that's all you're expecting from him? Apologies? You've been on a downwards spiral, cheating on your beloved ones, acting against your heart, just for apologies? Don't you think you'v gone a tad too low, Alysson?
I silence myself. Maybe he's right.
No, he's wrong. It's not about apologies. It's about the pain I felt that very day. I've done so many wrong things ever since I decided to have him go through this calvary, though, that the word apology applies better to me than to him.
But I'm too much of a proud woman to become apologetic.
Alysson: Appointment's over.
I get up from the patient's seat and storm out of the office.
Doctor: Hey! Wait! We're not done yet!
Alysson: I'm paying you to help me, doctor, not to s**t me even further. So I'm calling it a day.
And I slam the door shut behind my back as I leave the office.
Here we go again. Major matches with wrestling women. Amazons handpicked to be pit in a ring-out challenge. It brings the taste of so many things to my back of my tongue, it's like I'm reliving all of my moments all over again.
Underneath my clothes there are scars that I keep with me as the reminders of battles of epic proportions, such as when I once dethroned a World Champion from her reign in an Elimination Chambe rwith a brutal DDT to the steel steps. Or like when I overcame other five women in a ladder match for a World Championship contract for myself. All of the times I've risen high in the sky, only to come crashing down onto whoever, the sensation of the cold air running through my hair and into my senses in the mere second that separates me from the ground.
It's not like I have anything left of it to savour apart from this, is it?
Come Sovereign, it's going to be another one of these nights. The kind of nights when the amazons unite for a big war and only one is allowed to stay on her two feet when it's over. Four of these... I don't know anything about. But if you guys made it to nCw, you must at least be able to throw some punches. So, young or new, vet or rook -- allow me, girls, to introduce myself properly to you with words before come Sovereign: I'm Alysson Gardner. A woman you don't want to be friends with. You'll know sooner or later enough, rather sooner than not.
Nobody wants to. Not like I care anymore, either.
And then we have Stephanie Sullivan and her new found wrestling stance. The woman that took one of the most important things that I held dear away from me, and has the facade of hating on me for having changed.
*sigh*
I don't hate you, Stephanie. Not like your words tell me you hate me. Let's take a trip down memory lane, just so the both of us can remember how this started in the first place... I was the Hardcore Champion, and you contended for it. Ends up we were involved in a match with a third party, and this third party caused me to be forced to surrender the championship to you. I just thought I was rightfully entitled to a second chance at the gold you conquered, but I was denied it by a crazed manager that shifted me between divisions without consulting me. As your beloved mentor in Christian Gardner would say... "It's only logical".
And I bring this pain with me up to this very moment.
We both have a lot in common, Stephanie. The both of us have a mission. We were trained by the same man, and we're not afraid of bring our top game to the ring every single night. It's our asses on the line, and not a dose of pride. We make a living and a thrill out of it. Likewise, the both of us have been doomed to carry this stigma of being home wreckers for having stuck our nose in a marriage set for constance and happiness. And I did even worse, because I hurt far more people in the process, and I made it with an intention. The sole purpose I allied myself with Brad Kane, and finished pushing my honor, my pride, my reputation and everything else that used to along with them down the stream was pissing Chris Gardner off. And for my utmost sadness, it did not work. Every time I came up with a new something to burn that spark of berserkerness inside that stupid head of his,he came back up, shrugged it off and kept going on. So maybe he truly is the phoenix he says he is.
But you can't inherit a characteristic from a teacher just as this, Steph. I never learned how to be resilient by taking notes on my notepad. Ever since you've acted like eye candy and rumbled your round butt for the crowd to drool over, I slapped my own back with a whip to see if it would make my skin grow thicker, so I could bump into a bed of tacks and it wouldn't bleed as much. I'm bent to hell. Mybody has so many bruises, cuts and scars I stopped counting. I've suffered uncountable concussions silently, and you'd never, EVER see me complain about not being able to shine, because I knew my limits.
As far as all of the other stuff you said about me... That's something I've always found funny about Todd Williams: he has this predilection for cocky, self-loving women, because I had this impression you were talking to me,but looking at yourself in the mirror of your camera's lens. The very same words you threw at me can be applied to you, and you'd've acknowledged that if you were a tiny bit smarter than you force yourself to be. I got laid with a man and screwed an entire family up? So did you. And worse: you had a child. A beautiful young boy, a gift of heavens that I'll never be allowed to, for I was born sterile. I stained my own family's legacy? You stained your own career numerous times by making a fool out of yourself everytim you entered an arena mostly worried in being eyecandy than wrestling, always worried with the SECONDARY show people paid for.
Take your eyes out of your reflection, look at ME, into my eyes, and, "home wrecker", "selfish bitch" and "hopeless" aside, tell me what you see. Ever since THAT happened, the Alysson Marianne Gardner you used to know slowly died, giving birth to the one talking to you right now. As you could tell, there's no way I could remain the same person after being left behind so many numerous times, being denied my rematch against YOU for MY Hardcore Championship, being left to rot by my own brother and everybody else when Destiny Campbell struck me with a career-ending strike to my arm with that scythe of hers, and so many other times that I won't even bother remembering. THAT cheerful, happy Alysson Gardner has given place to this emotionless wreck that's talking to you right now. A woman that has surrendered to the turbid side of the stream and is now harvesting the results of her reckless actions. I don't have that spark anymore. You know? That spark that led me to smile, taunt, cheer and scream my lungs out whenever I set foot in an arena. And I'll never find it back.
I see in you a shining star, Stephanie. A woman that has decided, after so much time, to embrace the actual lifestyle of a wrestler, and started training mind, body and soul as you give your 110 percent into everything you do. You're making your way to greatness, and you shouldn't credit Christian for that, oh no. You should credit yourself to that. Because no teacher can teach faith nor willpower. That's something you need to find inside your heart, and you've been doing it pretty well.
Want to know why do I have this much to talk about you? Because my eyes aren't set on a mirror. If I ever laid my eyes on a reflection of my own, I'd notice the obvious: that I've become a heartless war machine set to lay waste on my track. And, as a heartless war machine, my mission is to put anyone in my path's lights out. And you happen to have put yourself in it. You can hate me for that...
... but that's how I rock.
I'm now outside of the psychologist's office. Clearly pist off for not being offered proper help, as I'm not as lost as I could be. I guess all there's left for me to do now is sink myself inside a bottle of soda and lock myself in my bedroon for the next 5 days for all the world cares. Or...
Male voice: Aggravated much?
This voice is a sweet surprise. I look in his direction and force a smile, even though he must know by now I'm not really satisfied.
Alysson: Yeah... I'm easy to read, aren't I?
You guys want to know who I'm talking to? I'll give you a tip and tell you he has everything to do with me. A man I'm comfortable around because we do enjoy the same set of things.
Gone out on a limb and guessed Brad Kane, right? Barely missed.
Spyke: Hop on, let's get stupid and do something fun. What'd'ya say?
The God of Extreme now does manage to form a genuine smile on my face. I silently hop onto his motorcycle and wrap my hands around his waist as we zip off to wherever.
Please, don't enter this room. Yes, keep this camcorder out of here. I"m at my psychologist's office and this is so embarassing.
Doctor: I'm here to help you get your mind straight, Alysson. Go ahead and tell me what your problem is.
Alysson: I... I somehow feel I've lost passion. For everything. You know? The... The anti-depressants that I take regularly are no longer affecting me, and I feel that my soul has been drown into this pool of vanity, avarice and sorrow.
Doctor: Maybe your blood has accostumed itself to the anti-depressants. You should talk to a--
Alysson: No, no, hear me out!... I... I've been in this wrestling industry for over eight years, you know, but... This is the first time that I feel that I'm only doing it because... I'm there. Yanno? I'm in the arena, there's a ring, there's someone to fight with, so let's get this done with and go home. There's no more joy to it, like it used to have. I... I can't even hear the crowd anymore, even though I know they're booing me to death.
Doctor: And do you know if there's anything that has happened in the past, or has been happening currently that is making your joy of wrestling fade away like this?
Alysson: I'm pretty sure it has something to do with this mission I've created to myself.
Doctor: A mission?
Alysson: Yeah, like... You see, I hate my brother. You know Christian, don't you? He... He destroyed my career. He made me wanna kill myself when he decided to play with my career like he did. He... He shifted me from one section of the company to another, and he never asked me for a opinion. All he cared about was fame.
Doctor: Your fame, right?
Alysson: ... yes, my fame. But I didn't want to have this fame of being just an eyecandy that defends championships in wet tee contests!
Doctor: I see. So I take it your brother shifting you from divisions was a major blow to your pride.
Alysson: Exactly that.
Doctor: Have you ever thought of it as the exact contrary? Try picturing this: your brother trying to deconstruct your image of a hard-hitting amazon, only to show people that you could ALSO be a very pretty face.
Alysson: ... are you f***ing kidding me, doc?
Doctor: I wish I were. Either way, you need to let your frustrations out some OTHER way, because all this envy of your brother is consuming you from the inside out.
Alysson: Don't tell me to start a gym, doctor. I already beat people up for a living, you KNOW.
Doctor: No, no, no. What I meant to tell you is this: this self-imposed crusade of yours against your brother is getting the best of you because, deep inside, you still love and respect the one man you've been calling a jerk all this time. Face it, Alysson - your reason and your heart are diverging so badly it shows in your eyes.
Somehow that's basically it. I won't deny it, he's right. But at the same time, I can't let it go.
Alysson: I'm sorry, doctor, not happening. I need to make my brother deel in his skin what he did to me. Only then my heart will be in piece. After he's been embarassed enough he'll actually look at me and say he's sorry.
Doctor: So that's all you're expecting from him? Apologies? You've been on a downwards spiral, cheating on your beloved ones, acting against your heart, just for apologies? Don't you think you'v gone a tad too low, Alysson?
I silence myself. Maybe he's right.
No, he's wrong. It's not about apologies. It's about the pain I felt that very day. I've done so many wrong things ever since I decided to have him go through this calvary, though, that the word apology applies better to me than to him.
But I'm too much of a proud woman to become apologetic.
Alysson: Appointment's over.
I get up from the patient's seat and storm out of the office.
Doctor: Hey! Wait! We're not done yet!
Alysson: I'm paying you to help me, doctor, not to s**t me even further. So I'm calling it a day.
And I slam the door shut behind my back as I leave the office.
Here we go again. Major matches with wrestling women. Amazons handpicked to be pit in a ring-out challenge. It brings the taste of so many things to my back of my tongue, it's like I'm reliving all of my moments all over again.
Underneath my clothes there are scars that I keep with me as the reminders of battles of epic proportions, such as when I once dethroned a World Champion from her reign in an Elimination Chambe rwith a brutal DDT to the steel steps. Or like when I overcame other five women in a ladder match for a World Championship contract for myself. All of the times I've risen high in the sky, only to come crashing down onto whoever, the sensation of the cold air running through my hair and into my senses in the mere second that separates me from the ground.
It's not like I have anything left of it to savour apart from this, is it?
Come Sovereign, it's going to be another one of these nights. The kind of nights when the amazons unite for a big war and only one is allowed to stay on her two feet when it's over. Four of these... I don't know anything about. But if you guys made it to nCw, you must at least be able to throw some punches. So, young or new, vet or rook -- allow me, girls, to introduce myself properly to you with words before come Sovereign: I'm Alysson Gardner. A woman you don't want to be friends with. You'll know sooner or later enough, rather sooner than not.
Nobody wants to. Not like I care anymore, either.
And then we have Stephanie Sullivan and her new found wrestling stance. The woman that took one of the most important things that I held dear away from me, and has the facade of hating on me for having changed.
*sigh*
I don't hate you, Stephanie. Not like your words tell me you hate me. Let's take a trip down memory lane, just so the both of us can remember how this started in the first place... I was the Hardcore Champion, and you contended for it. Ends up we were involved in a match with a third party, and this third party caused me to be forced to surrender the championship to you. I just thought I was rightfully entitled to a second chance at the gold you conquered, but I was denied it by a crazed manager that shifted me between divisions without consulting me. As your beloved mentor in Christian Gardner would say... "It's only logical".
And I bring this pain with me up to this very moment.
We both have a lot in common, Stephanie. The both of us have a mission. We were trained by the same man, and we're not afraid of bring our top game to the ring every single night. It's our asses on the line, and not a dose of pride. We make a living and a thrill out of it. Likewise, the both of us have been doomed to carry this stigma of being home wreckers for having stuck our nose in a marriage set for constance and happiness. And I did even worse, because I hurt far more people in the process, and I made it with an intention. The sole purpose I allied myself with Brad Kane, and finished pushing my honor, my pride, my reputation and everything else that used to along with them down the stream was pissing Chris Gardner off. And for my utmost sadness, it did not work. Every time I came up with a new something to burn that spark of berserkerness inside that stupid head of his,he came back up, shrugged it off and kept going on. So maybe he truly is the phoenix he says he is.
But you can't inherit a characteristic from a teacher just as this, Steph. I never learned how to be resilient by taking notes on my notepad. Ever since you've acted like eye candy and rumbled your round butt for the crowd to drool over, I slapped my own back with a whip to see if it would make my skin grow thicker, so I could bump into a bed of tacks and it wouldn't bleed as much. I'm bent to hell. Mybody has so many bruises, cuts and scars I stopped counting. I've suffered uncountable concussions silently, and you'd never, EVER see me complain about not being able to shine, because I knew my limits.
As far as all of the other stuff you said about me... That's something I've always found funny about Todd Williams: he has this predilection for cocky, self-loving women, because I had this impression you were talking to me,but looking at yourself in the mirror of your camera's lens. The very same words you threw at me can be applied to you, and you'd've acknowledged that if you were a tiny bit smarter than you force yourself to be. I got laid with a man and screwed an entire family up? So did you. And worse: you had a child. A beautiful young boy, a gift of heavens that I'll never be allowed to, for I was born sterile. I stained my own family's legacy? You stained your own career numerous times by making a fool out of yourself everytim you entered an arena mostly worried in being eyecandy than wrestling, always worried with the SECONDARY show people paid for.
Take your eyes out of your reflection, look at ME, into my eyes, and, "home wrecker", "selfish bitch" and "hopeless" aside, tell me what you see. Ever since THAT happened, the Alysson Marianne Gardner you used to know slowly died, giving birth to the one talking to you right now. As you could tell, there's no way I could remain the same person after being left behind so many numerous times, being denied my rematch against YOU for MY Hardcore Championship, being left to rot by my own brother and everybody else when Destiny Campbell struck me with a career-ending strike to my arm with that scythe of hers, and so many other times that I won't even bother remembering. THAT cheerful, happy Alysson Gardner has given place to this emotionless wreck that's talking to you right now. A woman that has surrendered to the turbid side of the stream and is now harvesting the results of her reckless actions. I don't have that spark anymore. You know? That spark that led me to smile, taunt, cheer and scream my lungs out whenever I set foot in an arena. And I'll never find it back.
I see in you a shining star, Stephanie. A woman that has decided, after so much time, to embrace the actual lifestyle of a wrestler, and started training mind, body and soul as you give your 110 percent into everything you do. You're making your way to greatness, and you shouldn't credit Christian for that, oh no. You should credit yourself to that. Because no teacher can teach faith nor willpower. That's something you need to find inside your heart, and you've been doing it pretty well.
Want to know why do I have this much to talk about you? Because my eyes aren't set on a mirror. If I ever laid my eyes on a reflection of my own, I'd notice the obvious: that I've become a heartless war machine set to lay waste on my track. And, as a heartless war machine, my mission is to put anyone in my path's lights out. And you happen to have put yourself in it. You can hate me for that...
... but that's how I rock.
I'm now outside of the psychologist's office. Clearly pist off for not being offered proper help, as I'm not as lost as I could be. I guess all there's left for me to do now is sink myself inside a bottle of soda and lock myself in my bedroon for the next 5 days for all the world cares. Or...
Male voice: Aggravated much?
This voice is a sweet surprise. I look in his direction and force a smile, even though he must know by now I'm not really satisfied.
Alysson: Yeah... I'm easy to read, aren't I?
You guys want to know who I'm talking to? I'll give you a tip and tell you he has everything to do with me. A man I'm comfortable around because we do enjoy the same set of things.
Gone out on a limb and guessed Brad Kane, right? Barely missed.
Spyke: Hop on, let's get stupid and do something fun. What'd'ya say?
The God of Extreme now does manage to form a genuine smile on my face. I silently hop onto his motorcycle and wrap my hands around his waist as we zip off to wherever.