I remember

9/11 still gets to me. It's one of the things that causes a lot of anxiety for me. I can't look at the pictures, or watch the reruns of the news coverage from that day. I couldn't watch that day as the towers fell and the Pentagon smoked. I couldn't stand with the rest of the students in front of that bank of tvs watching the world change.

I had been in Judaism class when someone got a phone call. She ran out of the room screaming for her mom. It seems her mom had been working in the Pentagon. I never found out if she lived or not. The teacher didn't know what was happening, but wouldn't let us panic - he just kept on teaching. When he finally released us, the news was everywhere.

I stood in line 20 miles from my home at my college and waited my turn to use the payphone to call my dad. He worked in DC at the time, and I heard the government was being evacuated. I waited, and waited, and then couldn't get a hold of him. My boyfriend at the time was in the Army and called down to the Pentagon to help remove bodies from the rubble. He ended up being quarantined for a week because of a ripped body bag.

It took me a day or so to get home. Luckily Diane lived near my college, so I was able to stay with her, but there was no way they were opening up the highway to let me go home. We could see the smoke rising from the Pentagon, and smell it. Oh, what an awful smell that was!

So I can't stand this time of year when they recap everything again, and again. I can't look at the newspapers or their websites. I just can't see it all again.

Maybe tomorrow I'll take a Seroquel and wait for the day to be over.