Know what sucks? September 11, that’s what.

Tomorrow I am going to come in to work and spend as much time as possible in my windowless lab doing experiments. The TV can have a nice powered-off rest for the entire day. May as well not even watch TV today, seeing as the 10th anniversary remember-athon apparently already started.

I can’t watch these specials. I tried several years back. Watching any of it gives me PTSD. It doesn’t induce a feeling of community within me, it induces a feeling of panic attacks and nausea. My heart races even though I’m not actively trying to put myself back there in time, and my forehead gets all hot and sticky and then my stomach starts lurching and I have to leave the room. Apparently, other people feel some kind of “coming together” in grief on September 11 of every year that inspires them to recall where they were and their memories and share them. Isn’t it amazing how everyone remembers that day so clearly, where they were and what was going on around them that morning?

Whatever.

I hate this sh** and I frankly do not wish to discuss it. I was in Manhattan on that morning and it sucked balls. That whole experience sucked balls, and you know what, it still does.

I took some pictures, I told my story, and I don’t wish to relive this every stupid f***ing year, and if anyone feels the need to tell me how important it is not to let ourselves forget, I’m going to punch them in the crotch.

You think I (or anyone else) can forget? F*** you.

Want to share stories? Here’s mine, tada, the end. And I’m one of the lucky ones, because a building didn’t fall on me or any of my loved ones.

That took a lot of effort to write, by the way. Even just writing about not wanting to talk about it now, I’m starting to get the shakes.

Every September 11, do you know what I try to do? I try to block these memories. Excuse me for not wanting to join everyone in reliving them.

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