Thirteen Years Later

9/11. It’s been thirteen years since the Towers fell. My most vivid memory of that day isn’t of planes crashing or of buildings coming down. It’s of a single person. A firefighter. Tower 2 had just fallen. A reporter was on the streets blindly asking questions of anyone he saw. This firefighter was trudging towards the north tower, Tower 1, where smoke was still billowing into the autumn sky. It would later be learned that the rescue personnel inside had been ordered to evacuate but many had not heard the call. This ignorant reporter grabbed at this firefighter and asked him what he was doing. He nodded at Tower 1. “My brothers are in there.” That’s all he said. His face was so haunted. He walked on. Less than ten minutes later, at 10:28, Tower 1 came down. That’s what 9/11 will always be to me. A person’s sacrifice, not just for those he has sworn to protect, not just for his city, but for those that are closer to him than family. I ran fire and rescue early in my career. Your crew, the people on your squad or company, you didn’t leave them behind. I’ll never know that man’s name, I’ve never seen that clip of video on the countless hours that are replayed this time of year, but I will never forget him.

Mood Swings & Secret Wishes

We all have things that we want. Cravings, desires, they’re all part of life. Everybody wants something different though. A prisoner might wish for freedom, a lonely person for love, many people, it seems, want money or power.

One of the most frustrating aspects about my bipolar is the way that my manic episodes manifest themselves. Those with my diagnosis can respond in many different ways when their mood suddenly shoots upward. If there’s an activity with an element of risk, we’ll find it.

Gambling, drugs, hitting the highway at dangerous speeds. We can empty bank accounts overnight and drive up hundreds of thousands in credit card debt. Some of us will go hypersexual and sleep with almost anyone we see.

I’ve been fortunate however in that I almost always go hypomanic, a mild form of mania. And when my mood swings up I don’t gamble, I don’t sleep around or do drugs, I spend money, sometimes money that I don’t have, sometimes hating myself as I do it. It’s a compulsion that’s almost impossible to resist.

I have found ways over the years. I’m still not always successful, but I’m getting better. I’m always finding ways to better myself.

But this isn’t what this is about. I’m talking about an entirely different kind of want.

I was watching a movie about a primitive tribe living in the jungle. It was night and they were gathered around a fire, telling stories and communing. Some danced and some talked. Some simply stared into the flames, lost in thought.

I’ve never been the kind of person who makes friends easily. People have often described me as standoffish. I can easily talk to you guys on here because online is an entirely different animal. Were this the real world, were we at a party, what would happen?

It could be the best of times, good music, drinks and a bonfire. Everybody would be having a great time and I’d still be on the periphery. If I was lucky my girlfriend would be there. Even then, I’d find myself waiting until it was time to go.

Not because I wouldn’t be enjoying your company, but because I’ve never been able to. Not in large crowds like that. I want plenty of things. But I truly envy people who can be in crowds of their friends and have a good time.

I wish I could too.

Long Nights & Good Memories

I ended up in town today. A couple of times actually. It was one of those days. One of my trips took me to a business complex across the street from the Staunton-Augusta Rescue Squad. Back when the world was new, when I was running fire and rescue, I would bump into them every once in a while. I was a member of Stuarts Draft Rescue, but depending on the nature of the call, sometimes more than one squad would be toned to respond to it. There was always a rivalry between Draft and Staunton-Augusta. It was usually good natured, but any conflicts were put aside when you got on scene. This particular call was a multi-vehicle accident. I don’t recall a lot of details other than the fact that it was night, there were several people involved, and we were in a part of the county that we didn’t usually respond to. As it so happened, I ended up loading my patient into a Staunton-Augusta unit and riding with them into the hospital. I remember noticing the small differences between the back of their trucks and ours. Little things such as where equipment was stored. I didn’t have a lot of time to sightsee however, since I had a patient to tend to. The thing that will always stick with me though is the moment where the leader of the Staunton-Augusta crew leaned over to me. He looked at the Draft windbreaker I was wearing and said, “You ought to take that off and put on one of ours.” I didn’t have  a lot of time to think on it then, but it’s stayed with me through the years. Even in the most hectic of circumstances, when you would swear that you don’t even have a second to breathe, there’s always time to give someone a compliment, to tell them that they’re doing a good job. It may give them a smile, or brighten their day. Who knows, it may even be something that they remember forever.