I remember

the jingle of the phone
my mom shaking me awake
"turn on the TV, you
won't believe what's happening."
buildings falling- a bad movie.
no. this is real.

I remember

the people running and the
sick knowledge that I was to weak
to run for my life.
the anorexia had taken over and was
killing me as much as a plane
slamming into a building.

I remember

the hollow falling falling
rush and buzz in my ears
from CNN and starvation.
lost in a cloud of smoke
created by my brain
staggering and brusing away ash.

I remember

the frantic trip to the doctor
where I lacked pulse and blood
pressure. stand up sit down.
wanting to give blood
like everybody else
but I had no blood to give.

I remember

wondering why I cared about
calories in celery when
people were dying alone apart.
wishing I could trade places
with those who had perished
because they deserved life
and I didn't.

I remember


I remember

and I am alive. still.

This is a poem I wrote last night, of my memories of September 11th. I drove out to Philadelphia on the 13th and entered residential treatment on the 14th, having lost 40% of my body weight in 6 months. I was, for all intensive purposes, dead.

Six years later, I still live. I am at a healthy weight for my body, I am moderately happy, and I am trying to get better every day.

There is hope. There is always hope.

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Sarah said...

I'm so glad you're still here, Carrie.

So glad.


Kirsten said...

Wow. Your poem is so succint, so clear.

And yes, there is hope.

Libby said...

Thank you for posting this. I needed this tonight.

Libby in DC

Laura Collins said...

True in the way only poetry can communicate.

Willow said...

Really amazing writing, Carrie. I need a touch of hope myself right now, thanks for sharing that.

Jeanne said...


Powerful poem.

And I'm so glad you're here.

thinking of you,

mary said...

I remember too. I'm still left with the frozen image of the building collapsing with the knowledge that people's lives were ending. My prayer was that it was swiftly so that they might be freed of pain. Awful day.

I'm sorry that it marked a time when you were slipping fast but so glad you made it to today. And even made it to to the point where you would invest in your recovery and fight back.
Life's not ours to take. We are supposed to honor and cherish it.

Anonymous said...

Hope is all we have. :)

lauren said...

Love to you Carrie, this is amazing
Im so glad you are here!
Love Lauren

marcella said...

Thank you for your poem and for all of your writing.
That date is important in our ED story as well, and was just one of the times when we were on parallel tracks in the roller-coaster ride.
You help me so much to understand what my daughter may be feeling as she also struggles to defeat her demons.

Hope said...


Those were dark days for our country and for our family. Your poem brings back those frantic images; very moving.

I'm so thankful that you are still here and "trying to get better every day". You've come such a long way.


Yes, our girls have so often been on those parallel tracks. I'm really glad that Z is doing better as well. I think they're both fighters. Sending best wishes across the pond.

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About Me

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I'm a science writer, a jewelry design artist, a bookworm, a complete geek, and mom to a wonderful kitty. I am also recovering from a decade-plus battle with anorexia nervosa. I believe that complete recovery is possible, and that the first step along that path is full nutrition.

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nour·ish: (v); to sustain with food or nutriment; supply with what is necessary for life, health, and growth; to cherish, foster, keep alive; to strengthen, build up, or promote


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