Big Pink:
I've been posting far too many serious comments of late, but allow me to both support you and be sympathetically amused.
The binge you've described is worthy of Raymond Carver. It makes me think you have the material for a book which should be used to beat James Frey into a shallow puddle. (Imagine being so inauthentic as to manufacture not only your virtues, but also your shortcomings and vices. "A Million Little Pieces" -- an irremediably cliched title for a styrofoam-light book that should signal the death-knell of the literary memoir -- which usually rings more false than identifiable fiction.)
I really love the sense of rightness about mowing the lawn and leveling the tree. It puts me in mind of one of my favorite stories by P.G. Wodehouse.
Your account of abusing your friend and recalling none of it speaks volumes about your persona on Head-fi. Real blackouts are telling. All of it suggests to me that you are not, as some have said, a "bully" but, rather, an afflicted person who sometimes succumbs to a common chemical illness. A relative of mine has the same problem: the police once found him circling a large traffic island in the early morning with no recollection of why or how he got there.
Your account proves to me that you have been sincere when you've said you don't intend to insult people -- I've never been certain of this before. Your pain seems reasonable and real.
Better, I think, to have offended a few neighbors and temporarily alienated a friend than to have lost a posh gig, betrayed a partner or blown an important relationship irretrievably. In my view, it is a good and constructive thing you're single at the moment: you seem to be sorting things out and settling into your commitment never to drink again. I believe your commitment has an excellent chance of taking root. With your personality and talents epistolary and electrical, a bit of resolve (and sober adaptation) might lob you skyward into a rewarding and enviable life. The problem doesn't seem to me to be that you're of a certain age or look a particular way (we all suspect we're actually creaky and homely) but, rather, that you've been stalled at an unpleasant stage which, thankfully, is about to end. I've seen great results from people at your stage. My traffic-island-wandering glibling (who is not terribly young) has been sober for over a decade and earned more degrees in the whinemeal than I have thus far.
I've wondered about the sense of sadness and futility I've felt in your posts on occasion; now all of it seems self-explanatory, given the change you're making. (I do hope you'll reap the benefits of AA while you're in recovery, since it seems a superb place to make contacts apart from its therapeutic value.)
What I've tried not to mention with any specificity on Head-fi is that, long ago, two serious girlfriends of mine were claimed -- fatally -- by addiction and foul play. It pains me to see anyone struggle with anything that grave.
However, two other exes have recovered and are now successful: one incredibly so as a designer, the other, reasonably so as an author and TV columnist. (And yes, I've been far more observant for the past eight years and haven't dated any addicts.)
Things will improve. You've valuable insights and infectious wit and want to commit both to page and I believe you will -- for a start. What you'll accomplish when you settle in is better left addressed by Emerson and Nietzsche -- don't you think?
