I’m feeling better—more stable—today, though still the physical effects linger.
The weird ironic thoughts keep popping into my head. Yesterday morning, I watched the news until about 11 a.m., and one of the things I wanted to hear was someone telling us that it was okay, it wasn’t going to happen anymore (at least today), that it was over. While I was sitting desperately hoping for this, one of the thoughts that popped into my head was “Boy, atheism really isn’t much of a comfort, is it? Can’t pray, after all . . .” And this morning, when I heard more news about the knives allegedly used in the hijackings, out of nowhere I thought, “Geez, Chad wouldn’t have had to lose that copy of The Dragon Never Sleeps if we’d known we could carry knives on” (that being the groom’s gift to his attendants at the wedding we were at, and why he checked the bag). This is, well, strange.
But I’m definitely starting to get angry. I can’t say it’s a cold anger, because it doesn’t feel cold. (Isn’t it amazing how physical strong emotion is?) It’s starting to feel like a determined anger. I keep thinking of messages from people I know, such as this one about setting up dessert as a counter-symbol, who are resolved that this terror (say it, Kate. You just spent two hours in a class discussion, thinking to yourself how hard it was for people to say the words), that these attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, will not force us into unreasoning terror and hopelessness.
In particular, I think of an e-mail a friend sent, asking that it be passed along to a Usenet group so everyone would know he was okay. The last bit just ran through my mind all this morning. It might not be the most eloquent statement I’ve seen, but it resonates with me.
Now, as I look at the gaping hole in the skyline, I *know* that they will be rebuilt like giant middle fingers jutting into the sky.
Also, as I was watching the devastation, the mail came.
The mail came. Take that.
Off to go give blood.
Take that, indeed. I am now ashamed of myself for having contemplated, even (only) for a minute, getting a ride to Boston on Friday instead of taking Amtrak. While I wouldn’t disparage other people’s fears—remembering how afraid I was yesterday, and still am to some degree—what I can and will do, in order to feel myself again, is refuse to let the bastards, whoever they are, dictate my life. Why should I give them even such a minor victory?
Today, I am going to donate money to the Red Cross, if I can get through to their site, and I’m going to donate blood. And then, I’m going to just be myself as hard as I can: sit outside and appreciate the beautiful weather. Continue talking with friends and sharing our feelings. Read the books that I couldn’t bear to look at last night, because they would remind me too much of the day. (I ended up reading tax law before bed, because all my other classes are in criminal law, which would remind me of my fears for civil liberties, and just about all of my fiction had someone dying or at war or otherwise in great peril.) Even do some work for classes.
Yesterday was a terrible day, and I don’t regret having accomplished basically nothing as I glued myself to Usenet and the web. But today is going to be different.
Addendum: The Red Cross web site says that it’s experiencing heavy volume on its online donation form. If you can’t get through, try Amazon or PayPay for other credit card donation links. You can also send a check to your local chapter or to
American Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund
P.O. Box 37243
Washington, D.C. 20013