So, here's the deal.

I've decided to create this blog for a couple of reasons. First, I find it much easier to write what I'm thinking than say it. I can organize my thoughts better and think about what it is I'm really trying to say. And second, in doing some internet research the past couple of days I've found a serious lack of support available to the families of the construction workers who worked rescue and recovery on 9/11. Everything seems to be focused on the first responders, the victims and their families. And while I completely understand, there is a whole lot of people who are living with this that have nowhere to go for support and encouragement. My hope is that maybe someone out there who is in similar circumstances may see this and know they are not alone. Let me state, very clearly, I'm no expert in anything. I'm just a woman married to a man who was present when the towers came down, worked rescue and recovery and has just completed work on the Freedom Tower. He has also just been diagnosed with PTSD. While, I've known for some time, and have pleaded with him to get help, he only recently did. So, now it's official. There is a name for the abyss that has grown in our lives and our marriage over the last years. I am not a doctor, I do not want anyone to think that I am advocating anything or anyone. My way of dealing with all this won't work for everyone. I'm just going to call 'em like I see 'em and write about the only thing I am an expert on, me. I will write about living with someone with PTSD, my frustrations, fears, anger, sadness whatever comes to mind. And someday, I hope to write about the joys and happiness again. Logically you know they can't help it. They're not behaving this way on purpose. You know they didn't intend to blow up their lives and families. But when you're standing on this side of the abyss and they're not making rational, normal decisions and the way they perceive things is so cockeyed it boggles the mind, the logic doesn't make it any easier to live with. It doesn't make it any easier to explain to family and friends. For these many years now I've not talked about it really. Partly, because I wanted to protect him. Let's face it, there's a certain stigma that still goes with an illness you can't see. And I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I was holding onto the hope that I was wrong, that it would just go away on it's own and we'd have our lives back, that I'd have my husband back, and then no one would need to know about it and think differently of him. Partly, because I guess I just figured no one would "get it". No one would get that I really had no answer for all the times someone asked me "what the hell is wrong with him". Or said "I'd never let my husband behave like that". Or "you deserve better than this, you should leave". How do you explain that this isn't him. He doesn't mean it, and he can't help it. That you're holding out hope that your husband will come back. That you know he's in there somewhere, and maybe if you can hold out long enough, that he'll come back to you. It now occurs to me that I'm probably not the only one who thinks that no one would get it. Because I sure can't find anyone out there so maybe no one else can either. So, here's the deal. I'll ramble on in the hopes that somewhere out there, someone feels less alone and lonely. And, if you find me and I'm talking about your life, say hello when you're ready and know that you are not alone.