Saturday, September 15, 2001


Saturday, September 15, 2001

Inundated with phone calls. Selective with whom I spoke with. I plan to
write an e-mail journal entry describing my survival and the rescue of
my cats. My half-sister called. She was very upset. I hadn't spoken to
her in four years - perhaps some good will come of all this. I know full
well how short life is. I know my life is very different and will never
be exactly the same. Too much to think about. I find I have little
patience for BS. I don't like being interrupted. I don't like certain
smells. I feel raw. My senses are too sharp. Noises sound louder, smells
sharper. I jump at the slightest prodding. Still very shaken. When my
body relaxes it jerks into readiness....ready for another attack. My
teeth hurt from clenching my jaw. A few shiny specks of fiberglass
remain on my skin. Questioning my sanity. Did this really happen?
Looking for evidence. I am reassured by news briefs that I am sane. This
horror did happen. I feel out place. We go to the store to buy a few
clothes as I have nothing. Just basics: Underwear, bra, socks, 2 pants,
shirts. I borrow a sweatshirt. Difficult to be in the stores, too many
sounds, hard to focus. Bought some Bach flower remedy and began
sub-lingual doses. It helped. Still unable to sleep. Still see the
people dying. Still hear the noises. My body doesn't want to let go of
consciousness. My body is on alert.

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