The second time around in Seattle I was married. My wife was in grad school at UW, which brought us down. More than once she remarked that she had never seen me in the winter in Alaska go bonkers like I did in Seattle.

I've only halfway joked after leaving the first time, especially given the crowd I was running around with by then, that had I stayed, I would have ended up doing seriously hard drugs. They were certainly around me in very close proximity, with people I knew crossing over to them. And I was doing plenty of softer stuff. So I was on that road. Just trying to escape any way I could.

The day I got on the ferry and headed north for what was supposed to be one summer was the day I left that life behind as well. I didn't know it at the time, but it became self-evident within a year or so. I didn't want to live that way anymore. And I never did again. The lifelong clinical depression followed me north (that's why I'm on this forum), but the self-destructive behaviors didn't. I dropped drugs and alcohol and took up running around on mountains and rivers. Much healthier.

It's snowing in April outside my window right now and spring is delayed for the moment. But it's still better than the Seattle rain. Any day of the week.