It's like a cross between a sinus headache and a hangover. A thick fuzzy weight of increasing pressure on my forehead. And it happens every time I get dragged into remembering the details of September 11.
I was in Washington, DC when it happened. I got up relatively late, as I always do (being a late night worker) and hadn't even opened my curtains yet when I sat down at the computer and saw that among Yahoo's top stories was something about a small plane hitting the World Trade Center. Then I read about the second plane, and knew we were under attack. That's when I opened my curtains and saw the plume of smoke from the Pentagon streaked across the horizon.
I remember September 11 too well. And I don't need anyone "reminding" me. I get annoyed this time of year, every year, by the media's incessant passion play over the September 11 anniversary. But in all fairness to the media, it's the politicians who think they have to stumble over each other to recognize this "momentous" day - the media is simply following suit.
I don't understand the need to constantly remember something that I had to go to therapy (for the first time in my life) to try to forget.
Like a good number of people in DC and NY, and many in the rest of the country, September 11 left me with an unhealthy bout of post-traumatic stress disorder. And for anyone who, like me, was never quite sure if PTSD really existed, I found out a few years later, after I thought I'd been "cured," that it does.
I was sitting in La Coupole, a nice historic bistro in Paris, having dinner with a few friends. Suddenly behind me I heard a loud crash, the waiter had dropped a tray of dishes. Everyone in the restaurant turned to look, but I was the only one to break into tears. It was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. I had no idea why I was crying. All I knew was that I had to get out of there, and I quickly left the table and went outside.
Loud noises still unnerve me a bit more than they should, but thankfully it's been a good six or seven years since I've lost it over a broken plate. The fuzzy thud in the head still comes back from time to time, like it did this past weekend when I couldn't get away from TV shows, and even people on my parents' block, incessantly "remembering" September 11.
I'm just not sure I get why we have to go through this every year. We hold far more "remembrances" of September 11th than we do our own departed relatives. What is the point in going through this ever year? Is someone honestly afraid we're going to forget this quickly? I wish. Do we really dishonor the dead by holding the same number of memorials for them that we hold for our own deceased family members (one after the funeral, one 40 days later, and one a year later - and that's about it).
I wonder whether the national fixation on remembering September 11 isn't a bit like a parent who keeps their child's bedroom intact long after the infant has died. You understand the sentiment, but you can't help but feel that at a certain point it's a bit unhealthy.
I know that, for me at least, this past weekend didn't help me heal. And I learned a long time ago that if I'm feeling something, someone else is probably feeling the same way. I know my reaction to September 11 wasn't healthy, and I got help. I can't help but wonder whether the country isn't reacting to the September 11 anniversary in an equally unhealthy way.
More from Teddy Partridge at FDL:
Behind us, then, this last and greatest anniversary: perhaps? Without forgetting the victims or disrespecting their loved ones — might it be? Can we now move on? Will it be possible now to dial back the public, national paroxysm of grief to allow private mourning, personal reflection, and public accountability? All of which, I submit, have been obscured by our media and political elites’ co-option of this anniversary.
Everyone mourns differently because everyone’s experience of that day is different. Acknowledging that uniqueness, though, I submit that this weeks-long media celebration (for that’s what it was), the repetition of painful images and recitation of mistakes made and opportunities lost helps no one. I simply do not believe that continued escalation of the public, national, communal nature of this commemoration will help any one individual — or our nation — heal.
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