One of America's Worst Days looking back

 

 

NYC skyline at night - Google Images

Today is the 11th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. I was walking down the hallway at John F. Kennedy High School in Denver, CO when I heard kids talking about how a plane hit the World Trade Center in New York City. I thought it was a small commuter plane and I wondered why it went off course. I told my friends, "Well, you know, a commuter plane is small, so it might not damage the building, but why would it fly so close to the skyline?" They just told me to look in one of the classrooms that had a TV on to the news. I looked and saw dark black smoke billowing out of one of the towers. 

First Period AP American History started and we sat there and watched the news. We learned that two planes hit the towers, another hit the Pentagon, then another plane went down in Pennsylvania en route to somewhere in Washington, DC. We realized this was an attack. Just as first hour ended, the towers of the World Trade Center collapsed. I saw just billowing smoke mixed with the ash of the buildings collapse into the streets. I was worried that so many other people were now hurt by the debris that had spread into the street. 

That started several months of what I'm pretty sure was secondary PTSD. That was no fun. The newsreels kept on playing in my head when I went to sleep and I couldn't get the images out of my head. I would have nightmares about it. I may have also developed a fixation around the World Trade Center as a way of processing all of it on my own. Because I did have to process all of that on my own. Sometimes I'd get scared to go to Downtown Denver because I would be fearful of an attack there. This lasted the rest of the school year. Before my honors Chemistry class, I liked to get there early and crawl into a little space under the lab counters because it was a nice safe space in case something happened. My country wasn't safe, my home wasn't safe when the news was on because they would show newsclips of the attacks which would start flashbacks, and sleeping sometimes wasn't safe because I would dream about it. 

 What did I learn from it? Well, first, that I took for granted this country. As someone adopted from a third world country, I knew living in this country was a gift. I thought living here provided some immunity from the "horrible current events 'over there'"
 I also learned how to handle a situation completely differently than Mom and find my own way to deal with it. Mom responded with anger and hate toward Al Queda. By God's grace, I responded with asking God to help me with my sadness and fear. I turned to God instead of just hating what happened. 

I learned that with God's help, and with adequate emotional support, things I saw on the news that made me sad didn't have the power to make me spiral into fear. When I came to CSU, I visited the Counseling Center around the anniversary of the attacks and they gave me tools to help me deal with it and then helped me learn how to deal with my emotions better. I think this event is the last one that I have unhealthily interanlized, that is: had it hit me so hard it was like I was there, even though I wasn't actually there. I learned how to have a healthy emotional distance between myself and what I saw on the news. To empathize without letting the dark world crush me. 

If I had told myself on September 12, 2001 that on September 11, 2012 I would cheerfully tell my mom who I love very much to have a great vacation as she left on an airplane knowing that day was the anniversary of the attacks, I would say, "How will I be able to do that without being sad and having flashbacks and stuff?" My present day self would say: It will be a long road, but by God's grace, I promise you, He will get you there." The way God can help me heal from handling a very intense national crisis with limited emotional resources has taught me this: God's healing power is amazing and stronger than anything the world tries to destroy.