The Oregon Tale

[Warning: This is not a humerous tale. There are some funny parts, but it appears I left them out. I will write them later, as they are worth sharing, but this part is not an enjoyable read. Proceed at your own risk.]

After three months that have gone in a blink I'm finally getting around to telling the story. It's not a great story, though I'm sure there are some great things about it. When I figure out what they are, I'll let you know.

Sigh....where to begin....where I left off I guess. As many of you know, from reading this blog of course, I had a heart wrenching decision about which job to take, and I decided on Klamath Falls, Oregon. I frantically started sorting and packing and hauling loads to Good Will. I put my house on the market, took a deep breath, and drove to Klamath Falls on a Sunday afternoon. I stayed in a really scary motel because it was the least expensive one I could find, and started the new job on Monday morning.

This could be a really long entry if I added all the little details that keep popping into my mind (there are three good stories just about the motel), and I'm sure I would lose most if not all of you by the end, plus I'm really tired and have to get up early, so I'll just give you the bare bones skeleton here and tell the other part in installments later.

The just the facts ma'am version is this. The job was good, my huge office, the benefits, my boss, the way the agency was run....my dream job. I loved it there and was really happy I'd found that place.

The rest of it was awful. There were problems with my house, and the deal fell through. There was a housing shortage and the only place I could find to live that I could even tolerate was way, way out of my budget. I couldn't afford both my house payment here and the rent there. I was more lonely than I even thought possible. I am fine alone. I've been alone a lot, but it was just different. I kept getting lost in the town and ending up by the railroad tracks where the drug dealers were. I had knots in my stomach and felt this sense of doom and dread all the time. I cried myself to sleep every night. It was just too much. So, I quit the job and came back.

There is of course more, and I'll tell anyone who wants to hear it, but won't bore the rest of you who don't.

It really makes no sense to me, and I'm still analyzing it way too much in my attempt to figure it out. I could have rented out my house, I would have found my way around, met new people and made new friends, I could have adjusted. I've done this before. It astounds me that I felt so panicked, so much so that I quit the job and turned back, losing my entire savings in the process (moving van deposit, apartment....etc...). I'm still not sure exactly what happened, only that I couldn't handle all of it.

This whole thing is so not like me. Something I never thought I would do. But, that's what I did. Now I'm trying to figure out what to do next. Where to go from here. It's been a whole year since I graduated, and I'm still not working as a therapist....maybe I never will.


What I have learned so far:
I'm not good at moving.
Even really strong people crumble.
The thing you think could never happen sometimes does.
I'm no longer welcome in Klamath Falls, Oregon (there are a lot of people there who hate my guts, but one person who still really likes me).

....to be continued....