|
|
 The other day I heard a large BOOM outside my window at work. I saw people running towards the sound, and I started to feel it-- that same feeling I always get whenever something like this happens. I freeze. My brain yells, "Go! Get out there and help!" But my body refuses to move an inch. My breathing quickens, and I have to look towards the ground to recompose myself. (Turns out, a guy driving a delivery truck had a seizure and slammed into about 5 parallel parked cars head on. Yeah, I know right? I think he's okay; the EMS came pretty fast.) This happened to me about 2 years ago when I heard something even louder, and I saw hordes of people running outside my window. I froze up for a good 15 minutes before I could get to my feet and find out what happened, if everything and everyone was all right, if we had to evacuate, if we were in danger. I never used to be like this. I usually run towards the chaos and help; I do it in a heartbeat. But my delay, my hesitation, my quiet panic-- it grabs hold of me. I've never talked about this before; I guess I call it a quiet panic for a reason. But I know why it happens to me. The image of people running towards or away from something with a look of fright or sheer panic on their faces-- it unsettles me. The sound of a large BOOM-- it rattles me. It took me 5 years before I could bring myself to go downtown and see it; I had went to nearby vigils every year prior. The truth is, the initial shock didn't wear off until almost 2 years later. So 2006 was my first year, and I thought I still couldn't handle it, but I found that it oddly brings a little peace. I've been going down there every morning of the day ever since. I don't go to the ceremony, but I navigate my way to the fenced off area. If I can, I sit, but I usually lean against something as I silently mouth the same quote I've chosen. I know... I know that people have been more affected than most, especially the ones who lost. While I didn't personally lose someone, the events of the day shook me to my core and even though it's kind of a silly little thing, it did affect me in a way I didn't expect. I think that... if you hear anything like that in the city, you fear for the worst. It's a scary sound, a terrifying few moments before you find what it is. It's as if the world stops. Everyone heals a little as time passes, myself included. It's getting better. No TrackBacksTrackBack URL: http://www.toastier.org/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/273 |
 |
Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
RSS Atom Powered by MT |
healing is growth, take your time.