How 9/11 Changed My Worrying

As long as I can remember, I’ve been a worrywart. When I was nine years old, I drilled the doctor before I was rolled into the operating room to get my tonsils out. I recall asking him, “Can people die from getting their tonsils out?”

The doctor actually replied by saying that yes, it was possible, but not likely. At nine years old, that wasn’t very comforting to hear, but he was a doctor, so I figured he knew what he was doing and trusted him without ever questioning anything again.

After September 11, 2001, though, my mind went into overdrive and my worrying intensified. As I think back to that time period a decade later, to my surprise, my worrying did not get worse immediately after those tragic events. In the days following the tragedies, I was focused on what had happened and how the nation would recover. In fact, only a few months after September 11, I flew on an airplane; I was determined to keep living a normal life without fear.

Ground Zero in 2003.

But for some reason, time did not heal all of the wounds for me. As more time went by, the more worried I became that there could be another attack. Believe it or not, though, about two years after 9/11, I visited New York City for the first time and paid my respects at Ground Zero. Was I worried about something happening? As far as I can remember, no. A few years later, I visited New York City again, and this time, I worried the entire time I was at the airport and on the airplane. In fact, I stressed myself out so much that I now have reappearing red marks on my forehead (which I have worried about and got checked out and shouldn’t be anything to worry about).

I’m not sure why I worried more on my second trip to New York City than on my first one, but since 9/11, I tend to worry more about little things. I also worry more about things that could happen. So why do I worry like this? I think it’s because what happened on September 11 was so unexpected. It made me rethink what’s important and how precious life is, so much so that I can’t seem to stop over thinking, well, everything.

While I will always remember those who lost their lives on 9/11, I also need to remember that worrying can’t fix problems or prevent them. As much as I would like to think that my worrying is somehow helping me or the world, it isn’t.

Que Sera Sera, right?