On days like yesterday, when I’m discouraged, depressed and disappointed, I need to remember how I felt walking into CNN Center on Monday mornings. The dread of another week doing soul-sapping, mind-numbing work for other people clashed just perfectly with the self-induced physical discomfort and disconnect from reality (call it a hangover, whatever…). I need to recall why it was that I chucked it all to the wind and set out on a journey with a loosely defined destination. I’m still alive. I’m a bit poorer on the balance sheet. My hair is turning gray. I don’t sleep well. But I’m home and I’m doing things on my terms. Successes haven’t come as quickly or in the volume that I want, but they’re mine. I am closer than ever to the two people that gave me life. Today is better than a year ago and infinitely better than two years ago. I’ve reconnected with old friends and made dozens of new ones. I know who the true ones are. While the destination may not be completely defined, I know now where it is I DON’T want to go. Fear is no longer part of the equation. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.