On that beautiful Tuesday, I was a 33-year old married, mother of two, with a third child on the way, living in Spangdahlem, Germany, as a member of the Air Force.
It was a gorgeous fall day and my parents were spending the last day of their visit from the States, with my family. We had been out most of the day exploring the beautiful scenery of Germany and we arrived home around 3 pm. It would have been 9 am in New York City. I went into the kitchen to prepare some drinks and my father sat down and turned on the television. He called us to the tv and we saw the fire engulfing the North Tower of the World Trade Center. He said a plane crashed into the building. We thought that it was nothing more than a tragic accident.
As we continued to watch and chat about how horrible the accident was, we watched in horror as the second plane flew into the South Tower. I think I literally went into shock. The realization that this could not be coincidental and that there was something more evil working here, was too much to wrap my brain around. I freaked out. I immediately ran to my car and called my husband. I begged him to come home and then I drove as fast as I could to pick up my kids at their school. I just wanted my family to be together, so I could feel safe.
Over the next few days, we were transfixed to the tv screen. My parents' flight home was delayed and I was happy about that. I never wanted them to leave, but six days later they finally were allowed to get on a plane. That was a scary day for me.
My feelings of safety and security changed on 9/11. When we moved back to the United States in 2002, I had to fly. I was nervous, but somehow made it through the flight. Did I check out every person boarding that flight? Absolutely. Could I have done anything about the people I stereotyped as shady? Absolutely not.
I did not fly for many years. In 2012, my family and I had to fly for seven hours to Washington state to attend a family reunion. I was a nervous wreck. I could't sleep for two weeks and so I prepared by getting a Valium from my doctor and then sleeping on the flight there and back. I couldn't enjoy the reunion, due to my ongoing fear of flying home.
This year, my husband and I celebrated our 25th anniversary. He wanted to go on a trip to England, where we met. I had never told him my fear. Thankfully, I was able to use the excuse that it was too expensive and thus avoided the prospect of flying. I thought that would be the end of it, but then he suggested New York City. For some reason I agreed, then I got to work. I started seeing a therapist to work on my fear of flying.
After several meetings, she diagnosed me with mild PTSD. What? PTSD is for people who have experienced life-threatening events. Wait! That's what happened to all of us. We may not have been in New York City on 9/11, but we experienced 9/11 too. For 14 years, I have suffered from PTSD brought on by the tragedy of that day. So what did I do about it?
I decided to take back power and control of my life. I decided that I had fallen off the horse, but I was getting back on. The events of 9/11 and the actions of those terrorists were not going to take away the fabulous parts of life that I could experience.
In May 2015, I flew to New York City with my husband. It was exciting. I used a lot of techniques, that helped me sleep just fine, get on the plane and actually enjoy the flight. It was worth it! I've been to so many great places, but New York City was an experience like no other. The energy is crazy and wonderful and exciting! It was, by far, the best vacation I have ever taken.
I am not completely cured, nor do I think I will ever be. I have to continue to use techniques to get me through the scary thoughts. Since that flight in May though, I have flown two more times. My trip to NYC was so wonderful, that I have planned another trip there with my mom and sister in December to go Christmas shopping. I am very excited!
