I myself am trudging along. No one I know was injured or killed. I never hung out much in the WTC area. I'm not sure why it is that I feel such a profound sense of loss, of being wounded. Often when the subject comes up, I have difficulty speaking, my voice breaks, or I have to turn away altogether so that I don't cry. I try not to look that direction as I ride home on the subway. I feel very small, very often these days...and often have trouble sleeping (or nightmares) when I sleep alone.
You know how some people become so filled with emotion that they explode (figuratively, I mean)? Well, I'm not exploding, I'm seeping. The horror and the anger and the weariness and the sorrow just leak out my skin, all the time. Sometimes it pours.
I read an account somewhere about how a few days after, some people were in a subway car when one person started screaming. The whole car apparently joined in. What an amazing event, if true. I think that the events of the past couple of months are worthy of screaming...that screaming would help immensely....but most of us watched in stunned silence, gasps & hushed whispers.
I'm not naive. I know that horrible things happen to people everyday, all around the world. Yet this incident is unique. All over the world, people were stunned by it..in a way I've never seen before. Perhaps for me it's because it's so close to home. Perhaps it has something to do with my own weird territoriality....in some way, the people that died were mine.
During the first week after it happened, I watched the news avidly. I searched for every tidbit I could find, to stay informed. Then suddenly I hit overload. I stopped listening or reading any kind of news. I tried not to think about it at all. Gradually I've eased back into the world...but it's not something that's very easy for me. I have such mixed emotions about the aftermath.
The politics...oh, the politics.