Wednesday, September 14, 2011

A contributing factor to my OCD + 9/11 Remembered

*I wish I could be more eloquent. I wish I could tell this story the way I want to, the way it looks in the deep recesses of my brain. Unfortunately it comes out all jumbled and confusing, exactly the way I feel...

In September of 2001, my sister, with whom I had little relationship with, and I decided I was going to fly out to NYC and spend a long weekend together. It had been 10 years since we had seen each other, and we wanted to begin a strong, adult relationship on our own terms. I was nervous but couldn't have been more excited. It was a new beginning.

Like nearly everyone in my country, I awoke on September 11, 2001 to the attacks on the World Trade Center. I watched in horror as the second plane hit on national TV. I screamed as I realized those were people falling from the buildings? What was happening? Why was it happening? Answers, PLEASE!

My brother in law worked in the World Financial Center and my sister left for work with him. I spent an entire day watching the towers burn, people jump, the towers fall, and thinking my sister may be dead. After all this time, we weren't going to get that chance to get to know each other.

I came home that night to an email from my sister saying that she was fine. The relief was unbelievable. Much to my parents' dismay, I flew into the heart of Manhattan mere days after the attacks to finally hold my sister in my arms.

We began my trip with tears, hugs, awkward silences, and a trip down to Ground Zero. The buildings were still smoking and I'll spare you the details of what it looked and smelled like down there, but just know that seeing it directly in front of your face impacts your mind. We went back to her apartment and she began a talk she had been wanting to have with me for 20+ years... Did our dad molest me too? My brain turned into Pandora's Box and it was opened. Too much. Too much for my little mind. September 11th, Ground Zero, repressed memories. I left that talk so confused, so destroyed, that when my friend picked me up from the airport I was laying on the ground. I couldn't even stand up anymore. I spent the next decade completely confused, in denial, obsessive, compulsive, and destructive to any relationship that was dear to me. I pushed friends away and I never talked to my sister again. I was angry with everything and everyone.

When it came out that my brother was a pedophile, I realized the apple does not, in fact, fall far from the tree and nothing was imagined. Nothing was embellished. It was all real. I relived everything and then some. More regret, more anger, more obsessions, more compulsions. I've never supported my sister and I've never let her support me. I only pray that someday my rememberance post will be one of acceptance, support, and survival.

Intense Debate