story5255.xml

story5255.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

I had just made strides in recovering from a major nervous breakdown after months of agony and was drinking my morning coffee while watching the television. This had been my routine for some months. All of a sudden a news bullitan came over the air waves and announced that a plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York City. It seemed as if there were news crews on site immediately. Time became jangled. Soon there was yet a second plane flying into the World Trade Center. Time became more jangled. I was supposed to go to the Federal Building downtown to get proof that I had not filed taxes the previous year. I was NOT going anywhere. Time became even more jangled. A third plane had crashed into the Pentagon. I immediately felt as if I was again losing my sanity. There were reports that a fouth plane had been hijacked and that it was within Cleveland Hopkin's International airports' air space. I thought Cleveland was under attack. I said the Hell with the feds. I wasn't going to the federal office building for ANYTHING, including proof that I hadn't filed taxes so that I could prove I was eligible for discounted psychiatric drugs at the county hospital. I so needed those drugs to calms my nerves over the next few weeks but I was afraid to leave my apartment. I was becoming paranoid. As a result, the county hospital bent the rules and "forgot" that I needed proof that I didn't file taxes and hand- delivered my psychiatriac meds. The meds didn't help. I felt as if the sense of security that I was regaining vanished in a moment. Today, exactly one year later, I am still on edge, not knowing if the horrible events will be repeated.