I am one of those people who empethizes greatly. I get embarassed for a teenager in a teen movie who is made fun of. I see someone cry and I usually cry also, because I can feel their pain. So when 9/11 occurred I was a mess. I didn't pernally know anyone in the towers or on the planes. I wasn't near New York or DC or PA. I didn't have friends ro family in the service or a firefighter/police. But I was a mess.
I haven't ever shared this with anyone. For three years I lived with my Grandma. She would go to Arizona each winter and I'd have the house to myself. When she was gone I slept on the couch. Every night. Partly because I felt too far away from the front door to know if something was happening in the middle of the night. Partly because I didn't want to be in my bedroom with no one else home. It made me feel safer. When 9/11 occurred my Grandma was in Europe on a trip. I was sleeping on the couch. And it almost solidifed my need to sleep on the couch in the house by myself. In years since then, I struggled with feeling safe enough in a house by myself to sleep in a back bedroom.
The days and nights following 9/11 were horrible for me. I was feeling every feeling that was shown on TV. I was glued to the TV, news and radio...I needed it all. Yet I was so horrified that I wanted desparately to turn the TV off and just be. Maybe if I was in a relationship or my Grandma was home, I'd have handled it differently. Maybe if I had something to talk to about it for days on end instead of coming home to an empty house it would have been different. I remember not being able to sleep. Watching news channel after news channel and feeling anxious. Even now, all I have to do is close my eyes and I am there.
So today, 8 years after this I am in it again. I feel, see, hear all the same things from that day.
And with that, I ahve to sign off. There is breaking news that there is something suspicious in DC...