It’s so tough to be bipolar. It’s harder than any war I fought or any battle I won. The highs and lows are more than you could even imagine. It’s as if your life is a roller coaster and everyday is a hill. One minute on top of the World admiring the view but the next the depths of depression; just waiting for that inevitable climb back up. But this ride never ends. It just goes on and on.

It’s amazing to me; I’m surrounded by happiness and what should make a person’s life fulfilled; a loving family, amazing children, incredible friends. But none of that makes a difference. One day I feel as if I’m finally on the path towards happiness. Then my brain switches, and I’m drowning in a sea of despair and unhappiness. And I think to myself – God please just let the ride end. There’s no worse torture than knowing and seeing what you want in your moments of sanity, but being unable to grab them.

It’s a vicious cycle fueled by self-medication, prescription drugs and my own mind. But I just can’t get hold of it. The mind is so powerful. I’ll make awful decisions; lose loved ones, damage relationships, damn near lose myself. But like a song on repeat the cycle continues. I want to stop it…but I can’t.

And here I am again today; after a day of bliss – of mania as a Psychiatrist would tell you – back on the low end of the spectrum. Wondering why I’m here, what my purpose is. It’d be so easy to disappear into nothingness. Life would be so much easier that way. But I can’t bring the shame of that unanswerable question upon my children and my friends. I can’t leave them asking why.

So I sit…a prisoner of my own mind: one day alive and moving 100 miles per hour, the next a recluse hardly willing to leave the bed. I don’t expect anyone to understand it. But it’s who I am. It’s the life I was born into. And one day I fear it will take me into a blackness that never ends.

It’s taken me 31 years, 3 months, 25 days and a few hours to finally decide I’m ready. I’ve had all I can stand of the wild parties, keg beer from trash cans, immature relationships, living paycheck to paycheck, having a job and not a career and just general tomfoolery that accompanies not being an adult. I’m ready to take the plunge and trade in my rock t-shirts for button downs and my Doc Martin’s for loafers.

In all honestly I should have made the change a long time ago. It’s not like I didn’t pay a price for this lifestyle. In my wake are failed marriages, ruined friendships, money problems, and God only knows how many dead brain cells. I just don’t want to do it anymore. Something in me clicked and I don’t want to be that person any longer.

Maybe it was watching my father nearly lose his life to heart problems. That was a sobering reality check for me. It certainly made me realize that I wasn’t as invincible as I thought. That in any given moment I could be gone. And there are a lot of things and experiences – adult experiences – I still want to have.

Perhaps it’s from being a father myself. Nearly losing my own dad has made me want to be an even better father for my own two children. Not the person I was; not the man who ran their mother off and lost himself in gallon after gallon of alcohol and bottle after bottle of pills.

Maybe I’m just now getting past many of the issues that held me back; an inability to let go, a penchant for living in the past, a silver tongue and quick wits that allowed me to bullshit my way through life.

However it happened, all I see now is future. The slate has been wiped clean and the World is my oyster. The question is what do I want to do with it? I want to rebuild my life back. Have a family, a successful career; be the kind of man and father that my father was. If I can be half the man he is and positively impact half as many people, I will have done something amazing with my time here.

You’ve only got a few weeks left to live; that’s what the doctor’s recently told my Uncle Bob. He’s had cancer for the last couple of years and has fought it valiantly. But a week or so ago he found out that it had finally spread from his colon into his stomach and liver and that chemotherapy was no longer a viable option for him. It deflated us all.

A little background on my Uncle Bob; He was epileptic as a child and has myriad health problems including schizophrenia and the like. He never finished school and as such thinks and functions on about a 4th grade level or so. He lives in a garage we converted into apartment behind my home and I help to take care of him. Aside from his lack of social development he is also a bit of a junk collector and enjoys fighting against causes such as bathing, shaving, etc. Hygiene is not his strong suit.

Bob has never had any real family of his own and never dated. He’s only had a job or two his entire life. His existence has pretty much been doing what he wants and enjoys on his limited income. That involves watching cartoons, going to thrift stores and trying to figure out how create rockets or build his own solar panels. Grandiose plans…but they make him happy. Don’t feel bad for him, though. He has loved his life.

I also think that’s how he’s been able to live so much longer than his initial prognosis of 6 months left. That was more than 2 years ago. The lack of stress, of leaving anything, has really helped him.

But the last few weeks have been hard for him. And me. His suffering has become almost more than I can stand to watch. I am feeding him narcotics like they are Skittles – and he still rolls around in the floor writhing in pain. It’s ripping me apart emotionally.

What was most amazing was when he found out that the cancer had run its course – and he would be dead within a few weeks, he wanted to come and tell me personally. He was so worried whether I would be alright when he told me. He wasn’t even concerned about himself. He keeps checking on me, and asking me if I am okay…despite his own pain and limited time. He is truly an incredible person. And to say I am going to miss him would be an understatement.

I hope I can get him into Hospice or a nursing home soon. He needs more care than I can give him now. I am so scared I’m going to go to the grocery store or class only to come home and find him dead. No one should die alone…and suffer alone as much as he has.

I know he can tell how badly I am worrying and hurting for him. It’s remarkable he still cares more about me than himself. Despite his gruffness and wild look he is one of the most remarkable and sensitive people I know. I hope whatever happens he doesn’t suffer much more. And that he goes knowing how much I love and care for him. I just had no idea how terribly difficult it is to watch someone die this way. And I hope it’s a long time before I have to see it again.

When we’re young we often feel invincible. We do wild and crazy things; never have hangovers; can function on little or no sleep and somehow manage to look good through all of it. Over the last two weeks I’ve watched as many of my friends lose their lives. The truth is we want to stay young forever; but we don’t. Every decision we make has repercussions that are felt now or later. There are certain lifestyles that aren’t safe to live anymore.

Jake and Misty were old classmates of mine that have left us over the last couple of weeks. I’m not sure what happened to Jake but Misty committed suicide. Both losses really blindsided me. My high school classmates were almost all still alive. I guess that made it easy to still feel young. Although I hadn’t see Jake since high school I had spent a fair amount of time with Misty since I left the Air Force – although not recently. It really reminds me how fragile life can be: Here one second gone the next.

If you’ve read anything of mine in the past you know I have battled for years with alcoholism and depression. My on again off again problems with drinking never scared me that badly because I always considered myself young and invincible. But as the last two weeks have shown me; I am not. It’s almost as if the Universe is warning me. Well, I am listening.

“Death is not the end of who we are. It is only a brief pause in the endless cycle of our lives. Each of us is a spirit that cannot die.”

I hate that I had to lose two friends to wake up and really see what’s going on around me and what I have been doing to myself; but sometimes it takes a swift kick in the ass. And that’s what I got. It’s so eerie and uncomfortable that as I was writing a blog Thursday about nearly committing suicide a friend of mine was doing that exact thing. I’m not great at reading between the lines – and thankfully this time I don’t have to. It’s time to start living right.

I’m thankful for the lesson I’ve learned from these tragedies, but I sure wish I could have learned them some other way. There are so many left behind; sons, daughters, parents, brothers and sisters. I wish I could have done something to help before it was too late. Now they’re just memories. To say they will be missed by many is an understatement.

As a Buddhist I hope your journey is a safe one; that your Karma from this life helps you get closer to enlightenment and that we meet again in the future.

18 months ago I came within seconds of taking my own life. I had lost my job, my family, my freedoms; I was at rock bottom. I remember feeling like I had nothing. That sense of emptiness was so scary. I wasn’t even mad – Just alone. But a random phone call from an old friend came at the exact right moment in time. I remember the taste of the cold barrel in my mouth and hearing the ringing of the phone. I can’t believe how close I came to leaving this World.

So today, on this Thanksgiving I have so much to be thankful for. I’m blessed with the best children a father could hope for; two wonderful kids who love me despite my flaws, who look up to me and love me unconditionally. I have two fantastic ex-wives who I remain friends with to this day. I cherish not only the times we use to have together, but the ones we have now as well. I have the most supportive family imaginable. My parents and brothers have watched me trip, stumble and fall and have always been there standing beside me when I need them.

I am also so thankful to you – all my friends old and new who follow me on Twitter, Facebook, this blog and the like. Social Networking has allowed me to chronicle my life – the ups and downs, good times and bad – and I am so thankful that you are there to tag along for the journey; sometimes offering advice or putting a foot in my ass if I need it. I appreciate you putting up with my crazy antics and listening to my wild stories. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without all of you in it.

Most of all I am thankful for my life – for the chance to sit and watch a sunset, or see the twinkle in my son’s eye on a Christmas morning; the ability to get in my truck, put the windows down and feel the wind against my face and know I am alive. I’m thankful for each breath I am blessed to take in this World because late on a Friday night 18 months ago I was a split second away from giving this life up.

Where does it all end?

I feel just like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. I woke up today and realized I am living the same thing over and over again. Maybe the people and places are a little different; I traded the woods of Alabama for the skyscrapers of Atlanta, but the events and emotions are exactly the same. How and when does it all end?

Maybe I have to start changing my ways and making the “right” decisions just like Phil did. It’s really surreal to wake up and realize you’re 30 years old and still your own worst enemy. I’m sitting here, once again unemployed, once again trying to figure out how to be happy, how to make a living and how to get out of this vicious cycle that has had me trapped for more than 8 years now.

My father calls what we have “The Crowe Curse.” Maybe he’s onto something. Perhaps I should just embrace this existence of daily struggle and acknowledge that’s what my life is meant to be. But I can’t help but think there’s a way out. Surely since some of the folks around me that got caught up in the curse were able to escape and find something more – I should be able to also.

Living this life was fun once upon a time, but not anymore. It’s time to change. I just don’t know how. And until I do I’ll wake up and live this same day, these same feelings, over and over until one day… when I just won’t wake up at all.

Fall is breathtaking. Watching the changing colors of the leaves and getting that first chill from the Autumn air, seeing your breath as you exhale – it’s almost like the weather is mimicking life.

I watch my children play in the falling leaves amidst the yellows, reds, browns and greens of autumn – the smiles on their faces – and I am reminded that everything is changing every day, all around us. What seems like an eternity away, will one day soon be just another fall afternoon filled with the smell of burning leaves, littered with pumpkins on doorsteps and Friday night high-school football games wrapped in blankets, sipping hot chocolate. And one day, much too soon, my kids won’t be playing in those leaves anymore. It will be their children.

As I sneak up upon my 30^th birthday, I realize more clearly that it all goes by so fast. From watching the World Series with my dad when I was a little boy, to Halloween with friends in Germany to now seeing my own kids enjoy the mild temperatures – it’s as if I just woke up from a long slumber. What once were such clear moments in my mind have faded like old photographs. So many times I thought tomorrow would never come, or I couldn’t survive a crisis in my life. But the moments always passed, the sun always rose and another fall has always dawned on me.

I feel more and more like one of those beautiful leaves slowly making it’s descent towards the ground. It starts with a bud that then blossoms into a leaf due to nurturing and growth. It survives the storms and rains and winds all the while getting older. Then, when it is time, it falls gracefully towards the Earth, landing wherever the winds of change see fit. And then, before you realize it – Spring has sprung and the process starts all over again, and hopefully we have learned something about ourselves and our world that will help us enjoy the next Fall that much more.

One day in a future that will be here before I know it, I will sit in front of a fireplace, with my children and grandchildren, and think back on all these Autumn days – the days when I turned 10, 16, 20, 30 and I will tell the stories of my tree – the branches that were the decisions I made and the leaves I have shed. And when I am old and gray, and all the leaves have fallen, my time here will be up. And then I can lie down and dream – of all those Autumn afternoons and the smiling faces of my children, rolling in those yellow, red, brown and green leaves.

One minute she was sitting behind a steering wheel, madly in love with her boyfriend – planning a future rich with a huge wedding, three children, house warming parties and trips to Panama City Beach. And then, one second later, she was gone.

Tim went to work the swing shift at the video store to support his son. “Life isn’t easy for a single dad,” he would tell me. But he made sacrifices. He and his coworkers laughed, talked about girls and their plans for the weekend. And then, a man came in with a gun, blindfolded them and took them in the back. Tim was gone.

Eric seemed like your average teenager – he would ride his skateboard and listen to his favorite bands. But he hid something – something none of us will ever be able to help him with. Because one afternoon he decided he didn’t want to be here anymore …and just like that…he was gone.

Life is so precious. Every minute we have is a gift. A time to treasure friends, family, sunsets and sunrises – to have that feeling you get when you hold your newborn child for the first time, or to feel the sweet satisfaction of achieving your goals and seeing your dreams become realities. To experience that numbness you get from a first kiss, or the joy of finding a long, lost love.

I want to love and laugh and live life to it’s fullest. I want to dream and achieve. I want all of you to come with me – to be by my side and see the beauty too. I don’t want to die with regrets – with what should have been. I beg you to enjoy your life and the time you have – it’s the most precious gift you have ever been given. Find the beauty in whatever it is you do. If you are unhappy – change. Don’t lose yourself. Cry, laugh, love, think, become a piece of that beauty in the world every single day. Don’t survive – live – for this moment, this very second and know that each and everyone of you are pieces in the mosaic of beauty I see everyday.

A little help, please?

My brother was banging on my door yesterday morning. Loudly.

“I’ve got a serious problem!”

I took him at his word as we haven’t been on much of speaking terms for the last few months. I figured, if he decided something warranted his speaking up, I should at least listen.

“What the hell, man?” I asked. “I’m talking with my lady friends.” Alright, maybe I wasn’t – but there’s never anything wrong with saving a little face in the light of unpleasant circumstances – i.e. a recent divorce. “This had better be good.”

“Just go out and look at my car,” he replied.

So, with a keen interest in how big a pain in my ass this “serious problem” was going to be I moseyed out the front door and this is what I saw.

Lodged helplessly in a small section the grill of his 1996 Geo Prism is a squirrel. A helpless little furry critter that, to my amazement, was not only alive but highly aggravated. While not Dr. Doolittle, I surmised this info by the rapid pumping of claws and angered squealing that was being directed at yours truly.

“What the &^*&!” I yelled. I approached with caution, as I have been told that an upset squirrel is only surpassed in danger and anger by an upset woman. As any blogger would do, I first photographed the situation – for evidence, accident reconstruction or posterity. Besides, it’s what cops do, so I figured I was following protocol at this point.

Apparently my brother had hit the little fur ball on a venture into the city. Thinking, as most people would, that he had put that little tree dweller down for a dirt nap he continued about his business. Lo and behold, much to his amazement, when he stopped for some liquid refreshment at the local 7-11, he found his passenger attached to the grill of his ride.

Being the animal lover he is – he decided at that point that in lieu of removing said creature from grill, he should come see the older brother about this problem. After all, what is family for if not times of need: like when there is a live friggin’ squirrel attached to the front of your car like a mechanical hood ornament.

As he told me – “It was a long ride. People kept honking and trying to get my attention. An old man on his front porch nearly fell over. So I just gave him a thumbs-up, thus indicating that yes, I realize there is a live animal on the front of my car as I drive 65 miles per hour down the highway.” I can only imagine what must have been going through that squirrels mind over those many miles. I would venture it was something along the lines of…

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!, etc. etc.”

Ummmm...no way.

After much quiet contemplation and inner dialogue I asked myself the pertinent question. WWSID? What Would Steve Irwin Do? Then however, I thought better of that idea – mainly because Steve Irwin is currently managing the petting zoo at that big ole’ Animal Sanctuary in the sky.

So I did what any normal person would. I decided to remove this nuisance with the implements of destruction (gardening) that we all have around the house – namely, a shovel and a hoe. Well, Mr. Squirrel saw this coming and let out many shrieks of horror. As did I. And perhaps my brother. But in the end I freed him and I thought all would be well. So, imagine my shock and awe when upon a subsequent trip outside (Yes, I had gone back inside to tell my lady friends of the exploits of Russell Crowe, Animal Savior) I find that Mr. Squirrel hasn’t moved despite being quite alive. Perhaps it was the broken back that was limiting his mobility. There were to be few tree climbings or nut-hunting forays in his future.

Problem #2 – “What are you going to do?” asks brother who is now causing me more problems than I need before I have had at least 3 coffees. I am now faced with a moral dilemma. I am not a huge animal guy. If this was a pet, I would take it to a veterinarian. But a random squirrel? They are a dime a dozen. Hell. This was natural selection at its best. I knew what must be done. Shovel? Gun? Anti-Freeze?

I had to think fast as the neighborhood cats had taken notice of the Christopher Reeve of squirrels – and I figured anything was better than being mauled while defenseless by a miniature tiger. That’s not how I want to go. Although, neither is death by shovel.

So   I did what had to be done. With a heavy heart, a belly full of yogurt and a cup of coffee in one hand I became The Grim Reaper’s Dirty Little Assistant. I just told myself that perhaps this was a terrorist squirrel and he was trying to figure out ways to disrupt traffic patterns and make everyone either:

1. Late for Work or

2. Force some kind of major traffic accident

While this only slightly eased my guilt, I managed to do my duty as a man and as a Alabamian. (I have learned that being from Alabama and driving a truck automatically makes you qualified for situations that involve life and death – animals, people, etc., you are expected to have something in your truck box to fix any situation) Before you ask, no I did not use the shovel. It was simply used for disposal. How did I do it? I’ll save that information for me alone. I’ll take that to my own grave.

As I finished my cigarette I pondered the meaning of life. But that made my head hurt. I went in, sat down, sipped my coffee and told my lady friends all about it – about how I saved the cute little critter from his agony and pain. Maybe I left out the part about going to heaven courtesy of my hands. That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing chicks dig. After all, I too am just a squirrel trying to get a nut.