The Oregon Part

In 2006 I decided to move to Oregon. I landed on Bend, Oregon and chose to vet it’s worthiness on a night out on the town where I attempted to drink one beer at every bar they had. It was a noble cause to me as I told a friend who joined me my only requirement for a new place to live was to find a small enough town that could accept me… and by accept me I mean not murder me for being a drunken idiot while wearing outfits me and said friend found at goodwill the night of the drinking adventure.

The drink at every bar quest ended several hours and a dozen beers at a dive pizza joint where some girls who thought I had cocaine left me and my friend when they realized I was not actually on drugs I was just being myself. Side note: I’ve never done cocaine and I also don’t drink anymore as I was perceived as someone on cocaine or catatonic. Bend met my requirements and I would not wake up murdered; only harmed by drinking way too much vodka and Jubelale coupled with cool ranch Doritos. 

When I moved it was just me and a futon in my apartment. I’d spend the days working out then working and then drinking to sleep when my swingshift ended. My routine had not changed much and I soon realized pulling a geographic is fun but it doesn’t solve your soul. 

Friends were hard to come by. I took to bars and further divulged into becoming a professional heavy equipment mechanic by day and beer aficionado by night. One such time I met a very nice local who took great care letting me know how to fit in there and what to do for fun. I later realized she had closed the bar an hour earlier and had humored me while she closed out.

It was like life was smacking me in the face with how isolating my life was no matter where I landed. As I felt that sting turn to darkness I sought help as I had vowed never to return there. Finding a therapist in a new town also gives an illusion of making your first friend.  

In therapy a counselor gave me some basics that are probably a given for some and my stubborn ass did some of the items he suggested. And it changed my life enough for my world to bounce off the axis of normalcy that was slowly killing me. 

He gave me a book called Full Catastrophe Living. While I didn’t read the book I took the hint from the title and made changes he said the book would agree with.

I started working out in different ways that actually challenged me. 

I ate cleaner. 

I got a day shift job so I could have time for friends. 

I picked up my guitars and embraced the loneliness as a time to learn to sing. 

I bought a ridiculous blue nalgene water bottle I could see throughout the day and drank water. 

And then life started to finally happen. Friends were no longer acquaintances I met. Here is an example of what I mean. 

John is a friend acquaintance. I went on a group date with his roommate that John was part of the group for. She (my date) said I was a waste of time because we (John and I) got drunk and pretended to be penguins in the fountain downtown on said group date. That’s John and I’s entire bond. You remove alcohol and the bad decisions and our bond is gone. We do not play in fountains as penguins unless provoked by alcohol. 

I played music, my singing no longer hurt the masses, I released an album. It was a lot more emo than I had thought it would be but it was something I finished and believed in. 

And then came the better parts. The parts I didn’t believe existed. 

I met this girl. She was everything like and unlike what I was told my soulmate would be. She was funny as hell, she loved people for who they were; there were no ulterior motivations. She genuinely just wanted to spend time with me. She was beautiful and didn’t see me for my blue collar profession even though she was clearly a cut above the rest. She was every reason to go through every season that was blue. 

She invited me to be her date at a summer bbq, and I followed her and her beautiful blonde hair in the neck strapped sundress that was typically just a cover for her bathing suit. She was always ready to jump in a lake or river. True to her form she found a doc at the party on the river and we were soon jumping in the Deschutes. As she got out and ran back to the party I pulled myself up on the dock and saw her footprint perfectly imprinted in the sun bleached cedar. And it gave me pause. 

In that moment I thought back to a dark time I had eluded by the sheer grace of God. I had made a choice to not be here is the shortest explanation I can give; There was a lot of pills and whiskey followed by several days I don’t really remember.  But I was still there a few days later. It was the first night I knew God was there. I remember feeling paralyzed by my decision and realizing I made a mistake. But I don’t remember being alone at that moment when my distress started to set in. 

So there I was staring at this footprint evaporating in the sun realizing I would have missed this. I would have missed the sheer chance to feel in love. In love with her, not anyone. her. The smell of summer, the char of the bbq, the silky people in hawaiian shirts. It was the most profound adhd fixation I had ever felt.

It was my first time hitting that point of reflection. There were times it would hit again. 

And as I walked home with that girl who became my wife I realized I was building something. And no one could take my claim to Oregon away.