Finding Peace on the Beach

Sensitive content: Car crash, depression, mental health

I eagerly hopped out of the car, hearing the crackling of the gravel beneath my sandals. The house looked serene, untouched. I could faintly hear the waves crashing, despite the wind hitting me from all sides. Although the sun was out, I kept my sweater wrapped around my shoulders. A 60 degree day on the Oregon coast was about as warm as it got.

It was a three hour drive to Yachats, a small town on the coast. I spent the afternoon weaving through packed minivans and trucks that boasted OreGUNian bumper stickers. But even with the summer traffic, it was worth it to escape my post-work-shift hangover that seemed to linger, thick and heavy, in the air of my sweltering microwave of an apartment. So I happily joined the masses fleeing the city's heatwave for a sandy, small town getaway alone with my thoughts.

I was able to find the lockbox fairly quickly, and after a just a few minutes, I was standing in the kitchen of a modest studio, overlooking the ocean. This is exactly what I needed, a peaceful, calm oasis. I was bummed Charcoal couldn’t come— my black Labrador. I’d bought Charcoal as a puppy, and had him for a couple of years now. On such short notice, I couldn’t find a coastal accommodation that allowed dogs, and I didn’t want to leave him in my apartment without air conditioning, so I’d left him with my parents for the time being.

I had never stayed in this house before. Typically, my family would book vacations at a local inn down the road. But with my last minute planning, I booked the only airbnb left, then immediately began my drive, blasting music from my childhood in hopes to drown out the noise in my head. 

There was so much noise these days. Maybe not noise…but anxieties in between my feelings of numbness. Emptiness. An outsider would never know. I assume that one could look at me and think I was doing just fine. And this is what I always strived for. To be a girl that people thought was succeeding. I always did well in school, and was so passionate about work. I had even immediately got my dream job right out of college. But at five years in, I have started to come to terms with the realization that this job was not what I thought it was. I worked in healthcare. And I was not cut out for so much stress and intensity. While most people have a midlife crisis in their “midlife”, I was not even thirty years old, but rethinking my entire career path and future. I had worked so hard for this goal, this career, only to find out that it was not for me. My identity is wrapped up entirely in this career choice. And with so much focus on school and work, I’d completely lost sight of what my other interests even are. My mom always pushed me to pick a sensible career. One in which I would have job security and a solid future. So I just always kept pushing myself to keep going. To make good money, to make a difference and help others.

I had felt this way for years now, with the last few months being particularly dreadful. Getting in my car and driving away from it all was freeing. 

After some time to unpack and get settled, I headed to the one grocery store in town, in hopes to find dinner. It was almost 8 o’clock, and with little inspiration or energy, I landed on a frozen pizza that wouldn’t taste good, but would hold me over until the morning. I headed to the check out counter, where there was a married couple in front of me, clearly stocking up on groceries for their weekend trip. They were an older couple, maybe in their 60’s, wearing matching hiking shoes. In typical Oregon fashion, they were chatting up the cashier.

“The whole highway. blocked. Can you believe it? A chaplain pulled up to the scene and everything.” The woman was explaining. “It was so eerie, you could see the sedan from the road, just suspended from the rocks.” 

I wondered when they must have come into town. There had been many cars on the road this afternoon, but no sign of any crashes. I felt grateful to have avoided any additional travel complications. It felt like a sign, that I deserved this break. I was able to find a last minute airbnb, I made the drive, I deserved time away from work. Just to just enjoy life. My family would think of me as weak for these thoughts. For being unhappy in my career. They wouldn’t say it, but they would think it. I found myself acknowledging this, but not caring.

I rang up my frozen pizza, but fell asleep that night before I could eat it. 

The next morning, I took a jog out to my favorite bakery. I ordered my favorite pastry. A cheesy, flaky croissant, with sun dried tomatoes and spinach baked in. I brought a book, a beach read romance of some sort, and sipped my coffee on the patio. I am unsure if I even like romance novels. But these days, they seem to be all the rage in my group of friends. 

After an hour or two of some relax time, I figured I should actually head to the beach. I hadn’t taken a vacation in years since work had been so busy and demanding. So I might as well enjoy the the waves and the sand while I am here.

I loaded my dishes at their bussing counter, and noticed a bulletin board of town events and local news. I perused the postings, looking for anything that might be going on this weekend. My interests had been dwindling these days. I really hadn’t had hobbies since I was a teenager it seemed. I tried to exercise daily and I read books every once in a while. But it seemed nothing peaked my interests anymore. Even when I met with friends, I felt boring, like I didn’t have anything to contribute, as I didn’t find myself doing much outside of work. I hated that this is what life had become, but my energy levels were so low, and I spent most days being so tired. It was hard to motivate myself for much else. But today, I felt hopeful. I thought maybe I’d consider going to the market that was listed for today around 3 o’clock. 

As I read about the different vendors, I also noticed a news article, regarding a crash off the coastal highway. Wondering if this was the crash from yesterday, I read. 

6/18/2024:

A blue Jetta Sedan was hit by an oncoming drunk driver, and was pushed off highway 101 yesterday afternoon at approximately 5pm between Waldport, OR and Yachats, OR. The victim has not been identified, but both drivers were killed on impact. This area of Highway 101 was closed for an hour after the incident, reopening around 6pm.

I left the bakery and jogged home, thinking about how short life is. This last Spring, I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I did feel hopeless on many days. But I was working to get better. I was seeing a therapist, and taking medications. Today, I felt proud of myself for that.

I got back to my Airbnb around 11am. I collected a towel, my book, sunscreen, and other beach essentials. While the airbnb was ocean view, the closest beach entrance was a few miles down the road. I climbed into my Jetta, and headed to a relaxing sandy afternoon. 

Unlike yesterday on the highway, there were almost no cars on the rode. Yachats was magical like that. A hidden oasis away from the Pelican Brewery obsessed crowds. Even the beach was pleasant and quiet. The beach stretched miles, with only a few passerby’s spread out along the sand. They all looked like ants from the parking lot. I walked a few minutes down a path that lead to the beach. I set up my towel and watched the waves. 

I felt at peace. 

That night, I started to feel a bit bored. A welcomed feeling. I flipped on the TV, doubtful there would be any good cable or shows in this area. Flipping through channels, I came upon a local news station. It was covering the crash from the day of my arrival into town. They had identified the body.

I examined the picture of the victim, blown up on the screen. It looked like it had been taken a few years ago. She looked like a stranger. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes looked sad. She was in her blue scrubs, wearing her hospital badge with pride. She was holding a puppy— a black lab.