Let's all put down our weapons, and discuss this like civilized gentlemen.

First off, thank you to all of you who sent well-wishes and concerned inquiries. To put you all at ease, I am not, and never have been, suicidal. I apologize to anyone who showed undue concern over me. There. Wasn't that easy?

I suppose I owe you all a bit of backstory, to better put things into perspective. I am a 40-something career man. I had a wife, who I loved desperately, but not enough. I have a daughter who is the center of my world. I still love Susan, in a way, but my little Anna is the brightest point out there. I would die for her, but not by my own hand. Catch my drift? At any rate, my life basically reads like what people who don't listen to country think country is all about. I spent all my time building a career, and lost my family because of it. I haven't been close with my parents and siblings for years, and now my wife and baby girl are gone, too. I was handling things okay, but as Christmas crept ever closer, it started to get to me. And it triggered some weird sort of mid-life crisis, which spawned this blog and that awesome Twitter account. Yeah, I could have bought a Ferrari. But who needs all that sort of stuff?

Now, the Sig. I only own it because I took the subway home for quite a long time, and late trains that pass through the parts of town mine passed through aren't the safest of places. So I bought it to keep alongside me. The deal from yesterday morning was just... I don't know, a slap in the face? I needed to make everything seem real, to keep from just sinking into a fog. And well, even if you know you aren't going to use it, a gun in the mouth brings some damn clear focus, is all I am saying. And yes, it was stupid as all get out, and uncharacteristically stupid of me. But I won't need to be repeating that experiment, ever. It's not something one easily forgets.

On top of all this, I am leaving tonight for the old homestead. Which, as I touched on earlier, is not exactly where I want to be going. But Mom picked up on something in my voice, and turned on the old guilt switch. You would think, at my age, I could resist her head games. But she is the master, let me tell you. So I get to see a father I haven't had a reason to speak to in over 25 years, a mother who will just make me feel even more like a loser (again, not a suicidal loser, just the garden variety) and a brother who seems to exist only to inadvertently piss me off. Yeah, he doesn't do it on purpose, which makes it even worse. Cause I can't even be justifiably mad at him. So that is my plan for the holiday. What's yours?

This is Jack's blog.

P.S. and not to be a jerk, but to all of you who were concerned, remember, you shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet. After all, I could just be making all of this up, right?