I’ve got to have some wood nearby to knock on – but I’m going to say it. I’m finally happy. For the first time in longer than I can really remember I am actually enjoying life. Everything just seems….right. That’s not to say I don’t have to fight through the struggles of daily existence. I think we all deal with that each day. But I seem to be back to the place I was eight years ago when my World was on its axis and spun properly. It’s been quite the path to get here, and by no means an easy journey; but definitely a worthwhile one.

The first thing I had to do was struggle, and I mean scrape and crawl and drag myself, through an addiction to alcohol. Without doubt it’s the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life. I can’t tell you how many times it would be easy to just have a beer, grab a six-pack or go out with friends. But that’s not who I am anymore. I wrestled with that Demon and I’m glad to say I beat the Devil, as Kris Kristofferson says. It’s taken a ton of commitment, some great friends, and a paradigm shift to make it happen. I may still occasionally stumble or fall, but I’ll fight back onto the wagon and hold on for all I’m worth.

The second thing I did was reprioritize my life. When I sat down and thought about what was important to me there was no question about what was atop the list – being the best dad I can be for my children. Somehow, someway, for some reason my ex-wife decided to let my son move in with me. Maybe she thought he needed his father around. But it’s more likely she probably saw that I was the one who needed him. And having him here has changed everything. I revel in the role of dad. We get up and go swim, play baseball, read books, play video games; do the kind of things all boys should do with their fathers. It’s making me a better person by the minute. It seems like the more parenting I do the more I learn about myself and change for the positive. Commitment, patience, morals: The lessons are everywhere I look.

Lastly I’ve really fallen back on my spirituality. My particular flavor is Buddhism. But hey, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, etc. – you have to stick with what works best for you. My faith really grounds me. I find myself recognizing the moment so much more often and embracing those precious seconds of here and now. It’s wonderful after drinking so much of the present away. The Buddhist tenants of skillful thought and meditation are things I use all the time now. I find when I approach life in such a manner the rewards I receive are ten-fold. But you don’t have to take my word for it. No matter your faith, really apply it to your life and let me know how things turn out. I believe you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

But most of all I credit my family. I have the most amazing parents a person could ask for. They watched the roller coaster called My Life over the past 10 years or so and stood by, offering guidance (or a well placed kick to the backside) when I needed it. The saw me at my worst times; drunk and belligerent, in a court for DUI, screaming at my ex-wife and are now seeing me at my best. It’s only possible because of their love, devotion, dedication and hard work. I owe them a debt that can never be repayed. But I promise I will try and take all this positive steam and put it towards being the kind of person, and living the kind of life, that makes them proud.

And too all my friends who have kept me afloat on an unrelenting sea of depression and self-loathing, thank you for your patience. I really have far better friends than I deserve. If it wasn’t for you there’s no telling where I might be. I use to overvalue socialization and I allowed it to run my life. I cut my losses and hunkered down with a small group of true friends – and I am constantly enriched and blessed by all of you.

Lastly I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my ex-wife. Even though things didn’t work out in our lives as we hoped and vowed that day almost six years ago, you’ve been patient, kind, and continued to support and tolerate me through the hurdles of our divorce and now raising children. Many women would have gone bananas over the monkey business I caused. But you have been and always will be my friend. And to say I am thankful for that is perhaps the understatement of my life.

I never knew so much good could come out of something that at the time seemed so bad. But as Norman Ollestad said, “Now I realize inside each turbulence there is a calm; a sliver of light buried in the darkness.”

I owe George Lucas dearly. You see – Star Wars has been a huge part of my life. I was never what you might call a fanboy. I never pretended to be a Wookie or pilot the Death Star or be orphaned on Tattoine. Honestly, I barely remember watching the films as a child.

My first real Star Wars experience came when they re-released the trilogy to theaters in the mid-90’s. I took a date to try and see Return of The Jedi and on the way I got pulled over for running a red light (Author’s Note: Do not drive a motor vehicle like you would a Podracer) and despite my attempts to get us there on time we still missed the movie. Oh, and I also got a $200 ticket. So Andrea, again I apologize and I sincerely hope you have finally overcome that traumatic night.

After that debacle and subsequently seeing the next Star Wars film on a mild-altering substance, I decided that George and I needed a break. But fate brought us back together at the release of The Phantom Menace. The newspaper I worked for in Germany wanted to cover release day, and it piqued my interest. I volunteered for the story and once again we danced the dance.

And I fell in love. I adored the new films. (I know, I know… Haters keep your comments to yourself.) I assumed after Episode 3 I was done with Star Wars. But I had a son. And the cycle started again.

It was all due to Lucas’s incredible marketing machine. There are all sorts of things Star Wars. Lunch-boxes, coffins, games, toilet paper; you just name it. Dylan’s particular pleasure was Star Wars: The Clone Wars on Cartoon Network. He loved it and it got him asking me all about Star Wars. For a child whose family had recently split up it was an entirely new World to escape in. Plus it was something special we shared in common. It was just ours – sister need not apply.

We submerged ourselves pretty deeply into the World of Star Wars. We bought Nintendo DS’s and two copies of the Lego Star Wars game. We’d watch a scene from one of the movies and then hop onto our DS and play the corresponding level together. But it’s about a lot more than just escapism. The movies have allowed us to have some awesome dialogue; relationships, good and evil, right and wrong, fathers and sons, split families, honesty. It’s bonded us on an entirely new level. And for that, I owe you greatly Mr. Lucas.

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.

Cornell business school employees Jon and Lisa thought they were safe. But in one quick click the truth of their affair was revealed. That quick press of the mouse sent all of a steamy and sexual message to every email address on the Cornell University campus. What was meant to be a private “pillow talk” suddenly became a trending topic on Twitter and the web.

It really got me thinking about how communication has changed and how we should change with it. Technology and the advent of email and instant messaging have allowed us to say things and do things we wouldn’t normally consider doing. I’m sure these lovers felt safe emailing their dirty talk back and forth. But were they? Even without accidentally mailing their exchange out how safe was their communication? I guarantee it’s sitting on a server somewhere, now ripe for the plucking by a couple of divorce lawyers.

I’m not casting blame. I’ve made my fair share of bad decisions and being involved with a married woman was one of them. We too were “busted” via online technology. It’s not right, but it happens. Live and learn. Hell, I remember when I was in the military several accidental email communiqués landing in the wrong hands. One of which I thought might end my military career.

I was the editor of a military newspaper and as such, had free and unfettered access to the ‘Net and the email system. My inbox was consistently flooded by things very similar to what I still get today; funny emails, junk, etc. One email really cracked me up though. You clicked on the program and it turned your entire screen flashing red and popped up a box that said “If you DON’T have a small penis, click here.” Well obviously I clicked. There actually was no other option. Suddenly the whole screen starts blinking in neon colors, playing classical music and flashing that “This Guy Has a Small Dick.” I opened this in my office surrounded by coworkers. I laughed it off and after getting over my initial shock everyone had a good time ribbing me about it.

Well I decided I should pass along this little gem of deception to my friends. My buddy Chris was the manager of the local military television stations so I allowed the email system to automatically fill in his address after I simply typed in his name. Mistake. I got a frantic call from some friends who told me there were TWO Chris Kelly’s and guess what? I had just sent the little dick hoax to a Four-Star Army General. Needless to say it was a long few days of waiting to lose my rank…which thankfully never happened. I’m sure that some kindly executive officer saw this and saved my ass. (And if you sir or ma’am ever read this, allow me to take you out for drinks.) To me this could have been just as dangerous and costly as what these two Cornell employees have done. With all this amazing technology comes amazing risk. The point is this; if you don’t want anyone to know, don’t talk about it or put it down to paper or keyboard.

I’ve had to think about this topic a lot as I write and share so much of my life with whoever decides to stop by this site and read about me. Everything online is being stored and saved; my kids can probably find this blog as adults someday and read everything I write. We should all keep that in mind whenever we communicate in today’s World. Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, Email, Instant Messaging and the like are all great services. But if we ever think we are being discreet while using them we should think again. I know Jon and Lisa will.

I came back home this weekend. A house is more than just four walls; it’s a refuge where we feel warm, secure and welcome. The house I sit and write this in is littered with memories.

This house came to me in an unusual fashion. Quasi-bequeathed to me, my grandparents bought this home in 1964 immediately after my “paw-paw” retired from the Army. The brought their three children here – the oldest of which was my mother – and lived out their life together.

My mom married my dad in the dining room; my Uncle Sam tried to sneak in drunk late at night. I remember throwing baseball in the yard and listening to Braves games on the radio. I remember spending the night here every chance I got, completely content in the love and affection only grandparents can give.

But there are memories that hurt as well; having to say goodbye to my grandfather as he laid on his deathbed with that rattle in his chest. The kitchen table my grandmother was eating her breakfast at when she has a fatal heart attack greets me every time I go to grab a bite.

Then when a time came in my life that I needed a place; a time when my young wife and I were struggling, this house was our safe haven also.  I started raising my kids here; playing ball in the yard just like my family had done with me. I remember jumping out of bed and rushing to the hospital to see my daughter’s birth. We celebrated birthdays at that same kitchen table.

And as prone to happen in life, the bad times followed the good. I remember sitting in the same room my paw-paw died in and hearing Heather tell me that “she was sorry…but it’s over.” A part of me died in that room also. I remember sitting in the same kitchen chair my grandmother ate her last meal in and crying the day I got out of jail for DUI.

So I ran away. I let those painful, negative memories overpower those positive ones. But this weekend I came back home. Now I sit here writing this, watching my son play on the bed where four generations of my family have lived, loved, laughed and sometimes died and I realize that this place will always be home. I’m so tired of running and feeling lost. Tonight, sitting with my children and soaking in all these memories again…it’s the first time I’ve felt warm, secure, welcome – Home – since the day I left.

I'm still chasing my dreams like fireflies...

I wish I could tell you what happened. I wish I knew what it was that seems to make me cursed in love. But I don’t know. Believe me; if I did I would change it. As fast as my ex-wife wanted to reconcile, she ended it before we had even really started again. A lot of my friends seem to think I should be bitter or angry about what happened to me…but I’m not. I still want the one thing I have wanted for the last 8 years of my life – since the first time I ever saw her; for her to be happy. Regardless if I’m with her or not, her happiness is what’s most important to me.

I think that’s what unconditional love is. My ex-wife doesn’t have to be with me, but I can’t stand the thoughts of her being unhappy. Don’t get me wrong, this experience has hurt. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that it was reopening a cut that I had finally closed. I feel as if I’ve almost bled out. But I have learned a lot about myself, about love and now about forgiveness. I didn’t necessarily get what I wanted out of the last month or so of my life – but I am sure beyond a shadow of a doubt I got what I needed. I don’t believe in coincidence or happenstance; I went into this experience thinking I would get my wife back and that this was meant to be.

But what I got was a lesson in true love and humility. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around it all. And here I am – back in Atlanta, sitting in the exact seat I was in 30 days ago. It’s almost as if I hit some kind of time warp and was transported for a month of my life and suddenly here I am again, beamed back to where I was sitting almost as if I dreamt it all. It’s really kind of surreal.

I don’t know what exactly I’m going to do with myself at this point – I have an idea where I want to get…but I have to try and figure out the best way to get there. In that respect, leaving this city and walking away from my life was quite detrimental. But life is all about risks and chances. I learned that I am not what she wants – and as a hard a pill as that is to swallow, it’s something I have to deal with. Now that we both know that for sure I have to reclose that cut and press forward with my life – for myself and my children.

So here I am rebuilding…again. I know I’ll find what it is I’m looking for and get to where it is I am headed. The road to that place is just so different than I ever expected it to be. So it’s time to stop focusing on what might have been. I’m once again setting the past behind me and chasing my dreams like a little boy chases fireflies against an Alabama night sky; one at a time, jumping as high as he can to grab them.