There Simply is No Catchy Title to Give

When I decided to create this blog I told myself that I would not use it as a forum to critique events, political or otherwise, unless I felt that they had a direct impact on me and my path to wellness. This has been difficult for me because I can see the impact on myself in many of life’s events, but I’ve tried to keep this blog in the direct state of I. These last few weeks, however, have left me in an emotional land of limbo where I’m simply not sure if this Alice will ever wake up.

I am still, one month later, in a state of disbelief that not one, but two bombs went off on Marathon Monday. It seems unreal to me that the city that I have always viewed as one of the cleanest and safest of the urban landscapes I’ve called home was also home to people that would cause such destruction and devastation. It’s no secret that there is no love lost between Boston and I, but overall I’ve felt much safer here than in other cities I’ve lived. The finish line area of the Boston Marathon is in a neighborhood that I love and the idea of peoples’ limbs flying through the air and lives taken there is just too ghastly to comprehend. I still have not visited the area.

April 19th was another shocking day for those of us in Boston. I awoke to find out that my neighborhood of Brighton, the neighboring areas, and the city of Watertown were on lockdown due to an early morning carjacking, a bomb throwing and gun fight with the suspected bombers, and the search for Dzhokhar Tsarnaev. This all led to the injury of MBTA Police Officer Richard Donahue, Jr. and the death of MIT Police Officer Sean Collier and suspected terrorist Tamerlan Tsarnaev.

The entire city of Boston was eventually placed on lock down with baited breath full of fear. For me this made the memories of 9-11 and the Oklahoma City bombing come rushing to the surface of my consciousness. I was living in Los Angeles when 9-11 occurred and the planes that struck the towers were bound for LA. I recall LA was rather still and quiet that day as well. I was 15 and living in Abilene, TX when the OKC bombing occurred. Being an Okie though it felt as if the bomb went off in my own backyard. Despite these personal links to such horrid acts of terrorism I had never been directly in the panic zone before. I spent most of the 19th watching the news and giving updates on Facebook. The one positive that came from this tragedy-what a trite, smug, and maddening descriptor to be left with-was that I heard from friends I hadn’t spoken to in ages. Their outreach of concern was a nice reminder that I’m loved.

Eventually the lockdown was lifted and the T-slang for the MBTA system- began to run again. I did not leave my apartment until much later that night.

Part Two to come.


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