Afraid of Going Back July 29, 2008
Posted by tboracer in Uncategorized.Tags: afraid, anxiety, blog, depression, healing, Indianapolis, memories, PTSD, Sadness
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I was so very excited when I started this blog. I didn’t think twice about the memories or the pain that might come back through those memories. In fact, I expected to find tremendous healing through the writing. I knew it might be painful but that’s why I call it the Journey Through the Great Sadness. It is a journey, and I expect to come out the other side well.
My PTSD symptoms came on not long after I relocated to Indianapolis nearly six years ago. The only problem is: I didn’t know that’s what was going on. I found ways of stifling what I was feeling. My husband and I and my wonderful mother-in-law took a trip to Iowa to see my brother-in-law and his friend three years ago. It was a wonderful long weekend with them but I can recall that as being the weekend where I started going downhill – fast. I can recall the overwhelming sadness and despair and pain. I still had no clue what was going on at that time. I just knew that what I was feeling was getting worse.
In recent days, I have struggled with those feelings again. Perhaps it’s knowing that the July 4th weekend marks the unofficial beginning of a painful journey. Perhaps it’s knowing the anniversary of the attack is just months away. I have felt a great deal of depression again although it ebbs and flows. (Today is a good day.) For that reason, I have been afraid of writing. I am afraid of going back to that place.
Part of me doesn’t want to think about it or talk about it or write about it. But I also know how cathartic it is for me to do all of these things.
My anxiety has been rather high too. The election is also a few months away and, for some reason, I can’t get it out of my head that there will be another attack either before the election or in the final days of President Bush’s term. My senses are heightened, and I hate that feeling. I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulders to see who is possibly going to do what. I don’t want to go to a public place to celebrate our Independence Day. As much as I love racing, I don’t want to be here when the NASCAR Cup series comes to town for the Brickyard 500. I don’t want to be any place where there are large gatherings. Isn’t that silly? To be afraid of being in public.
I know another attack will happen. It isn’t a matter of if but when. I don’t want to be there when it happens. I don’t want to see it, smell it, hear it, feel it.
I’m afraid of going back.
Silence in the Skies June 2, 2008
Posted by tboracer in Uncategorized.Tags: airplanes, Capitol Hill, humvee's, military, military police, MP's, Pentagon, Reagan International Airport, silence, skies, weapons, White House
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In the days following 9/11, the skies were empty. It was an eerie silence. Airplanes were a constant in the Washington, DC area. I lived less than four miles from Reagan International Airport. The metro train I took into the city each day made a stop at this airport. But, in the days following the attacks, there was no reason to make the stop.
No employees would be reporting to work for their shifts. Passengers heading out on day-business trips were unable to fly out of Reagan. No visitors from other places needed to greet the metro to make their way to friends, family or hotels.
The stop for the Pentagon was closed off for a while too. Some members of our military were allowed to exit at the Pentagon location but their duties were most likely critical and grim.
The only thing flying around the skies were military air craft and every once in a while, Marine One (or its body double). When you’re used to having airplanes constantly flying overhead, making their way in and out of one of the busiest airports on the planet, the silence is deafening. Even when other airports eventually opened, Reagan remained closed due to its proximity to the White House and Capitol Hill (and the Pentagon).
Another strange visual was the numerous military police and other military members stationed at various locations throughout the streets of DC. Many were accompanied by Humvee’s. All carried loaded weapons; always at the ready. They didn’t mess around with jokesters or or second guess the slightest suspicion.
We were a wounded nation and they stood proud as our protective barrier. In many ways, they were also a band aid for the open sore we still scratched.
I remember going out with one of my video photographers to the corner nearest the CBN News headquarters where we worked. We were sent to shoot B-roll for a story about the extra protection our city enjoyed, albeit at too high a cost. At least four MP’s with their Humvee’s and weapons-at-the-ready were standing guard; walking to and fro. “This must be what it’s like to live in Israel,” I whispered.
Indeed.
But the skies didn’t remain silent for long. Everyone returned to their normal activities all the while keeping one eye to the sky for signs of trouble. The noise was a welcome return from the silence that made us remember too much but nervous for what could happen yet again.
Scattered Memories May 28, 2008
Posted by tboracer in Uncategorized.Tags: 9/11, Delaware, details, first responders, memories, military, New York, Pentagon, remember, Shanksville, tornadoes, tragic, Washington DC
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I was pretty surprised when I was asked by WAVG to work as the correspondent for the WMD training video for the Pentagon. The group producing the project was out of Florida. The strange thing is that I can’t seem to remember the name of the company or the people with whom I worked. My mind is filled with scattered memories about various events surrounding 9/11.
I guess that’s one of the many things that bothers me about that time in my life. I remember the group responsible for the project had their own crew – photographer, audio, producer, etc. I remember thinking they were very nice but can’t recall much else about them.
We shot stand-ups in a variety of places around DC. One particular project had us going to a military base in Delaware. It wasn’t even a fully functioning base anymore; it mainly housed military personnel who were first responders. I was nervous about that day because I had to drive there on my own, and I’m not crazy about that huge bridge I had to cross!
Once I arrived, I felt a sense of foreboding. It seemed as if we were in the middle of nowhere, although we weren’t. As a military brat, I was used to the hustle and bustle of the Army bases where my dad was stationed. This was quite different.
The military personnel showed us around their equipment and vehicles that would be used in a first response scenario. I was quite impressed but also kept thinking, “There’s no way these guys will ever put this stuff to use; at least not from a WMD or terrorism perspective.” I suspect the foreboding was a bit of nervousness at just the suggestion of such an event occurring on our soil. We’re the United States of America – not Israel!
I liken it to watching video of a tornado. I’ve never seen one in real life and don’t particularly want to. I’m fascinated by weather events, especially tornadoes, but they scare the heck out of me. Every time I watch video of a tornado, I feel like the tornado will pop off the screen and come straight for me. I felt much the same way on this particular shoot.
I wonder where those men are today. Did they respond? Where did they go? New York? Washington, DC? Shanksville? What were their duties and how did they perform them?
I can’t remember the details of our discussion, and I wonder why. Why are there certain memories that are so vibrant in my mind’s eye while others are scattered? Why are the tragic memories more vivid while the memories that hold seemingly insignificant details seem distant?
I need to remember those details but can’t. Perhaps if I remember, it’ll help answer other questions or give me some pertinent information I might need for the next time. Apparently God has His reasons for blocking that stuff out of my mind. I suppose I should just stop fighting it and let the memories be.
Flight of Healing May 20, 2008
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I have returned from my wonderful trip to Charlotte. It truly was wonderful. The experience and the opportunity was simply amazing but I hope it’s not the only time I’ll get to do something like this!
There were many days I wondered why God was sending me on this trip. I’m still not entirely sure why I was selected for this opportunity, but I am fairly certain of one thing: This was a flight of healing for me.
I wasn’t entirely sure I could get on the plane last Thursday. My wonderful husband was with me until I made it through the security checkpoint. And I knew he, and many others, were praying for me. I was one of the last people who boarded the plane, and for a while, thought I would be sitting by myself. At the last minute, a young lady joined me. As she got settled, I watched as she opened a book. But it wasn’t just any book. It was The Book – A One Year Bible. I knew it was God’s way of telling me He was with me. Take off was, as it usually is, frightful. Too bouncy! And the landing was much the same.
When it was all over, I found myself feeling tremendous peace. And I never thought about my next flight until it was time for me to get on the plane.
I had the pleasure of seeing my parents for brunch on Sunday. (Columbia, SC is just a quick hours drive to Charlotte.) They took me to the airport, and we talked about so many things – except flying.
When it was time for me to head to the security check point, my mother looked at me and said, “Are you ok?” It was then that I realized I was about to get on an airplane. In most instances, I ruminate over a flight for weeks prior to lift off. I looked around at my surroundings and said, “You know, I am ok. I’m really ok.”
And I was. I conked out once I got on the plane. Take off wasn’t nearly as terrifying as it normally is. The landing, however, had me a bit jumpy as windy conditions bounced the plane around quite a bit. It wasn’t entirely fun, but I knew I was going to be just fine.
Now that it’s all over, I am confident that I could get on another plane tomorrow. The power of prayer came through in this flight of healing for me. I’m sure I’m still going to get nervous at take off and landing – most people do. But, I am not so terrified that flying is out of the question anymore.
Praise God!!
Taking Flight May 15, 2008
Posted by tboracer in Uncategorized.Tags: 9/11, airplane, alone, flight, healing, husband, plane, trip
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I was never a good airplane passenger, even though I had been one dozens of times. Being a military brat gave us the opportunity to travel by plane often. We lived in Europe for a while so we often flew back to New York for family visits. And when we settled in South Carolina, we went back to Austria to visit my mother’s birthplace. But, I never totally got used to it nor did I develop a fondness for it.
After 9/11, I swore I would never get on another plane. And then I got married and had to go on a honeymoon. We picked Siesta Key, Florida, and driving was not an option. I was, as I like to say, heavily sedated for the entire flight. And I was still a wreck. But, I had my wonderful, new husband. Then a couple of years later, we went back to Siesta Key for a family vacation. Again, I had my wonderful husband. Last October found us traveling to Oregon to visit our good friends, the Dyer’s, who were married two weeks before us. I still didn’t like it but I still had my wonderful husband.
I am about to take flight again tomorrow. A wonderful opportunity has presented itself to me; the kind you just can’t say no to. I’m heading to Charlotte, NC to do some magazine work surrounding Michael Waltrip Racing and the NASCAR All Star Race this weekend. You just can’t beat all expenses paid!
The caveat is that my wonderful husband will not be coming with me. I toyed with the idea of being heavily sedated again but am not comfortable with that notion since I’ll be flying alone. Besides, perhaps it’s time for me to take flight alone.
Yes, I am scared to death. Yet, I feel peace about this entire trip. I believe this will be a flight of healing. It’s going to be incredibly difficult for me to get on that plane alone. But I know that, in reality, I’m not alone.
My Lord is with me. And He won’t leave me; turbulence or none. He is always at my side. I know I have to keep reminding myself of that. This is not a leap of faith – but a flight of faith.
Loving Father, I am trusting you on this flight of healing. Your will be done.
WMD May 11, 2008
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It all started with weapons of mass destruction. It was a project I was hired to work on by the production arm of CBN News, WAVG. The month-long project had me working as a correspondent for a training video for upper-level members of the Pentagon about the effects of WMD. I thoroughly enjoyed the work I did, interviewing a variety of experts and military personnel who train for terrorist attacks that involve WMD.
I never really thought much about any of it. I mean, what were the chances we were going to face a terror attack? The project concluded just a couple of weeks before 9/11.
And as I watched the events unfold in New York on 9/11, I still didn’t think about WMD or even terrorism until the second plane struck. When the Pentagon was struck, I froze in my own skin. My first reaction was, “What’s on that plane? What else is going to happen?”
I wasn’t about to leave the safety of the building in which I stood to find out for myself. I stayed in the building for four hours before I finally got up the nerve to leave. I knew what could happen to the human body if it were exposed to anthrax, small pox, and other things most people never even think about.
And then I happen to be in the Hart Senate Office Building when former Senator Dachle’s aide unwittingly opened a letter tainted with anthrax. I did get sick and was rushed to the hospital to be tested for exposure of the deadly powder.
As if the events of that day weren’t bad enough, I felt like I had inside information. In some ways, I still feel that way. My husband and I just purchased tickets to the Indianapolis 500 later this month. As much as I love racing and as much as I really want to go to this race (and every race), I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of a terror attack. Indeed, the 500 is a huge event with thousands upon thousands of people in attendance. It could happen just as it could happen at a baseball game, the Super Bowl, or the Mall of America.
People often tell me to not think about it. “You can’t live your life in fear,” they say. And of course, they’re right. But, they don’t have the inside information that I have. They don’t have the memories of seeing photos showing bodies ravaged and destroyed by various WMD including small pox. I certainly don’t try to keep those things at the forefront of my thinking, but it’s always there. And I’m not entirely sure I’ll feel entirely safe when I’m at that race or at the NASCAR All Star race in Charlotte next weekend.
A wonderful working opportunity turned into one of my greatest fears. It all started with weapons of mass destruction.
