Was I in a horror film? Here I was trying to accept my relationship was over, trying to make positive changes in my life and I was being haunted by this ominous number. If I didn’t wake up on weekends at 9:11am, by the time I was up and about and looking at my phone I would see it was 9:11am.
One Saturday morning run I noticed my average per mile was 9’11.
I checked my bank account one day and it was £911 overdrawn! Scrolling through Instagram I would see someone’s likes and it was peaking at 911 likes.Ĭhecking my own story, it had been viewed 911 times. Riding the train, we stopped in the middle of the tracks and I saw a black train sign that said 9 1 1 in white text. Over the next month I saw the number 911 everywhere. I didn’t even say anything to my Sister or her husband, I left the coffee on the table, marched my self-loathing arse back to the spare bedroom where I stayed for the next two hours, cursing myself for waking up at 9:11am. This is it, I thought to myself, this is what rock bottom feels like. His email explained that he just didn’t feel the same way about me anymore. I’d gotten back with my ex a few weeks earlier in a bid to sort out my life and to try and somehow salvage this seven year relationship that just never seemed to work no matter how hard I tried.īut of course he was now dumping me. I was renting a flat I could not afford, nor could I afford the bills that came attached with it. I was completely lacking in money, with about £100 in my savings, and about £100 to last me until payday. I had just been diagnosed with depression. He had clearly chosen email to avoid having to deal with a ‘live’ response from me on WhatsApp. He was currently vacationing in Thailand and had sent a lengthy email explaining that we needed to break up. The ‘We need to talk’ email off the man I’d spent seven years of my life in a tug-of-war relationship with. Then I went back to my phone, did a bit of scrolling and then went in to my emails. I tried to shrug off my bad ‘9:11’ feeling and made myself a coffee. Everyone still had their heads, shoulders, knees and toes, in fact everybody was exactly as you would expect on a January Saturday morning. My sister, her husband, and the two kids were all having breakfast together. I ran downstairs in my PJ’s and checked everybody was still there. I was staying at my Sisters house at the time. I took my phone off airplane mode and waited for a message bearing bad news to come through on WhatsApp or Instagram. Surely I’m not the only one who associates this number with 9/11, the worst terrorist attack to ever happen to America, not to mention their emergency number, 911.įor all I know I could have woken up at 9:11am hundreds of times before, but on this particular cold Saturday morning, seeing it with my eyes, I felt it.Īnxiety kicked in as I told myself ‘something bad is about to happen.’ And I could feel it, I could feel that something bad was coming my way. I got goosebumps and felt knots tie up in my stomach. I woke up, rolled over, grabbed my phone (as I so often did first thing in the morning back then) and saw that it was exactly 9:11am. It was Saturday the 12th of January 2019.
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