I just finished watching two 9/11 specials on NatGeo. I cried at the end of the second. I was working on Wall Street that day. I was married just three months. I brought with me in a gym bag my wedding photo album. I had stopped off to get a hair cut before work and to show my barber the pictures. I would also show them to my coworkers--at least that was my intention. I saw the 2nd tower get hit and ran from it, worried more about being stampeded by the fleeing crowds from Broadway. I returned to the office, grabbed the bag and was ready to leave when I was stopped by the receptionist who said the CEO ordered everyone to stay inside. When the first tower collapsed, it was like night had suddenly fallen. Outside the office windows it suddenly turned black. Shortly after that, we were allowed to leave. With gym bag in hand, I went downstairs via elevator. By the time I was on the street, the other tower had fallen. I headed to South Street and began a 3 1/2 hour trek to midtown Manhattan. As I walked along South Street I was dumbfounded at no longer seeing the WTC where it stood. All there was a smoky space. I phoned my wife from the nearest working payphone as soon as I could. I did this a couple of more times during my trek up to 36th Street. By then the buses and subways were running again. It was strange to see an American warplane zoom overhead. I took the subway home.
I thankfully never had PTSD or anything related to that day affect me.
As I cried this evening, I uttered my familiar question to the Lord: "Why my marriage, God?"
I call April 15, 2012 my personal 9/11. It was the day my wife phoned me to say our sister-in-law (SIL) told her I no longer could move in with them. Her husband had said "yes" to my request to move in two months prior, February 2012. I had lost my job over a year ago, Unemployment ran out, and I was on the verge of eviction. The plan was for my wife to move in with her folks; there wasn't enough room for me there. I would move in with my wife's brother and his family. He had done this for a family friend and her two children. Plus I had been over their apartment for weekend stays so many times during the decade-long marriage. I was just there for a weekend in March, the month before. Their youngest daughter was the apple of my eye.
I call 4/15/12 my own 9/11 because it was my day of personal devastation and loss. Right now, as I am typing this, I made a parallel to the NY portion of the attacks to 4/15/12. My wife told me of the sudden, mysterious (no reason was given) reversal of our SIL. This is my "first tower getting hit." Everyone in that family knew my plight. "The second tower getting hit" was hearing my wife say, when I asked her what she said in my defense, "What do you want me to do--argue with my family? It's their apartment."
And just as the two buildings eventually collapsed, so did my marriage.
Conspiracists call 9/11 an inside job. Tonight I called the end of my marriage an inside job...perpetrated by my ex-wife.
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Like 9/11 survivors and their families, I have survived "that day." By God's grace I was saved from eviction. I continue to work and flourish financially (pay the bills, treat myself, etc.), and heal emotionally. I am slow to rebuild my entrepreneurial project and realize this is due to not having anyone to share the rebuilding and eventual success with. (Yes, I can and will build it for myself now, but it's not easy to alter 10 years of sharing your personal business dream with someone and now being on your own.) I am seeing another therapist not solely for divorce recovery, but for the divorce as a major portion of delayed, denied, and destroyed dreams which leaves me depressed. (How about them 'D's?' ) I have been toying with idea of dating. I go back and forth because (1) I have grown accustomed to being alone, and (2) ladies, y'all all expensive .
Thanks for reading.
I thankfully never had PTSD or anything related to that day affect me.
As I cried this evening, I uttered my familiar question to the Lord: "Why my marriage, God?"
I call April 15, 2012 my personal 9/11. It was the day my wife phoned me to say our sister-in-law (SIL) told her I no longer could move in with them. Her husband had said "yes" to my request to move in two months prior, February 2012. I had lost my job over a year ago, Unemployment ran out, and I was on the verge of eviction. The plan was for my wife to move in with her folks; there wasn't enough room for me there. I would move in with my wife's brother and his family. He had done this for a family friend and her two children. Plus I had been over their apartment for weekend stays so many times during the decade-long marriage. I was just there for a weekend in March, the month before. Their youngest daughter was the apple of my eye.
I call 4/15/12 my own 9/11 because it was my day of personal devastation and loss. Right now, as I am typing this, I made a parallel to the NY portion of the attacks to 4/15/12. My wife told me of the sudden, mysterious (no reason was given) reversal of our SIL. This is my "first tower getting hit." Everyone in that family knew my plight. "The second tower getting hit" was hearing my wife say, when I asked her what she said in my defense, "What do you want me to do--argue with my family? It's their apartment."
And just as the two buildings eventually collapsed, so did my marriage.
Conspiracists call 9/11 an inside job. Tonight I called the end of my marriage an inside job...perpetrated by my ex-wife.
-----
Like 9/11 survivors and their families, I have survived "that day." By God's grace I was saved from eviction. I continue to work and flourish financially (pay the bills, treat myself, etc.), and heal emotionally. I am slow to rebuild my entrepreneurial project and realize this is due to not having anyone to share the rebuilding and eventual success with. (Yes, I can and will build it for myself now, but it's not easy to alter 10 years of sharing your personal business dream with someone and now being on your own.) I am seeing another therapist not solely for divorce recovery, but for the divorce as a major portion of delayed, denied, and destroyed dreams which leaves me depressed. (How about them 'D's?' ) I have been toying with idea of dating. I go back and forth because (1) I have grown accustomed to being alone, and (2) ladies, y'all all expensive .
Thanks for reading.