As a Recovering Addict, Visiting Portland Was Triggering
Stepping around addiction and through the homeless dilemma
As our plane hits the tarmac at PDX, I see so many stunning shades of green. My mind begins to wander back to the stories I heard about Portland during the summer of 2020, which they coined “The Summer of Rage”, the protests in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, the decriminalization of minor drug offenses — and how the homeless population grew exponentially.
Quietly, I think to myself, I hope it’s not that bad.
As a recovering alcoholic/addict, I find it hard to see people still trapped by the tight grip of a substance. Knowing someone else is knee-deep in the raw pain I once felt cuts too close and breaks my heart.
My family and I get our rental car and head to downtown Portland. Everyone in Portland refers to the city by its airport code, which I find interesting. PDX is on blast at every turn, and then despite all of the luscious greenery, I see the devastation this city has endured.
Our car whizzes by graffiti-covered buildings, many with boarded-up windows and tents out front taking up rent-free space on the street. Too many people have lost their way in this beautiful city. I start second-guessing myself and wonder if I picked a decent place to…
