I bottled it for 10 years. What I witnessed on 09/11/2001. I finally purged on 09/11/2011, the beautiful Sunday morning of a year ago. Finally grieved. Didn’t take time to do it in 2001, though becoming completely depressed and dropping from a healthy 180 pounds to 155 pounds by December.
Realizing I was depressed, I found some work outside of the city and got healthy by removing myself. In the years following, I would also realize that my respect and gratitude for men and women serving in the military was more for their having to deal with PTSD, than it was for their desire to serve in the first place.
It was nice to wake up today on 09/11/2012, and genuinely only want to get about my day. Watch some ESPN First Take, get the kids to school and get busy dropping a few morsels on Manolith before getting on to the business of life’s pursuits.
Anytime a conversation begins about 9/11, I often allow it to proceed without mentioning that I was there, downtown, witnessing the entire thing. Was I running from the dust and debris? No. Was I close enough to see people jumping? Sure. It was all the horrific stuff you’d imagine. My only echoing sentiment about the day is that I cannot believe what I’ve been told I should believe. I saw things with my own eyes. Most of my peers who also witnessed the events have their own questions as well. Ultimately, the how will never change the what. At a certain point, you wish you could resign yourself to that fact, but I’ve just resigned myself to the possibility that I’ll always wonder.
