Escape From New York. Again.

Last year, as September 11 approached, conversations with my shrink, my friends and my parents went something like this, "I can't be there. I really can't be there. Maybe I should be there. Maybe it would be good for me. I can't be there. Wait, what if I tried to be there?" and eventually I ended up at Kripalu, which was, as far as not reminding you of the place you don't want to be goes, just fine.

It's hard to separate a lot of what I've been going through over the past two years from that day. Sometimes I think my life hasn't changed at all, other times I realize it's just the opposite. I just don't know if the day will come when I have to be in New York on September 11 and I won't feel like I do just thinking about it now: horrified, scared and sad.