The battlefield of my mind

Has your life every felt like, well...

a battlefield??

I have been beat down, dragged out, and left for dead emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I'm sure we have all had these moments where it just seems easier to search for a white flag of surrender rather than muster up the strength to fight the enemy -- whatever that enemy may be. I'd like to share one battle that I have struggled with for several years. One that I am just NOW getting off my lazy and nervous rump to fight head on.

The good Samar... Atlantan?

It was 11:23 p.m. on Tuesday night when I woke up to a woman's scream. 

"Great. Just great," I thought. "Stupid neighbors are at it again."

I opened my eyes and saw light coming through the bedroom window. We live on the top floor of our building (the 4th floor counting the basement apartments facing the woods), and Josh and I are used to hearing raised voices coming from other apartment balconies below us. At first, I dismissed the yelling, but the lights went away and the one loud voice continued.

"PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP ME," the woman screamed out. "HELP ME!"

I jumped out of bed and looked out the window. Brady barked. On the road behind the apartment complex, I saw a woman on the ground beside her car and thought the worst. Raped. Hurt. Mugged. Beat up. Something bad. 

The silent, paranoid killer

What I am about to share with you may sound like a zombie apocalypse fairy tale, but I promise that all content is true and with evidence (click on links). Read on...

Earlier this year, a group of people arrived in a Pottsville, Pa., emergency room so agitated, violent and psychotic that medical workers needed to hold them down. Even large doses of sedatives failed to work on the group.

Another man in Pennsylvania broke into a monastery and stabbed a priest. In Indiana, a man climbed a roadside flagpole and jumped into traffic. And a West Virginia woman scratched herself to pieces over several days because she thought there was something under her skin. More recently, a 21-year-old from Louisiana slit his throat and ended his life with a gunshot.

Sound scary, yet? I'm not finished.

In Memory of Carrie

Carrie Michelle Evory, born Feb. 18, 1981, died March 20, 2003.

May your life be a legacy and may your death be not in vain.

My grandmother and Carrie

A beautiful, intelligent, funny, wonderful woman. She was a daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter, cousin, friend, and fiance. A graduate of Trident Tech, Carrie worked at the Medical University of South Carolina as a lab tech.