I had been taking antidepressants for months to help in my battle with clinical depression, which turned me into an insomniac by night, and a groggy, barely functional zombie during the day. So naturally, I woke up late on September 11, a little bit before 9:00. I turned on my radio like I do every morning and heard a reporter say “we’re part of history in the making.” He also made several references to a gaping black hole in the north tower. I thought it was some kind of joke, some Orwellian “War of the Worlds” prank being broadcast on a pirate radio station.

I turned on my TV just as the first tower collapsed. Five minutes before I left for work, the second tower collapsed. The reporter said “The World Trade Center is gone.” Without knowing anyone there, I cried.

On my way to work I heard about the Pentagon. Fifteen minutes later, my friend Stacy called my cell phone and told me about United 93 crashing in Pennsylvania. Like most people, I called my friends and family. Before I left work that night, co-workers who have never spoken to me before wished me a good night.

This day not only reminded me of how important our freedoms are, but also inspired me to work harder at getting well and not pass through life half asleep. I now remember how to live…and keep living with an open heart.