I read a good number of post here tonight and even replied to a few of them.  One really hit me hard.  It was someone asking if anyone else had a alcoholic do a disappearing act on them, and how did they cope with it.  It brought back so many different memories of my own life that before I even decided to reply I had a lump in my throat.  I thought I would share openly here what I shared with this woman.  I hope that in it you will find a bit of light for yourself and for the hopeless alcoholic or addict in your life.  Many years ago, someone disappeared on me, and while it hurt greatly at the time, it also turned into the greatest gift a alcoholic like me could be given... Freedom to face himself for once.

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Disappearing... oh gawh, I am going to be so forthcoming because this word and its implications in my own life still sting today after 23 years of personal sobreity and 15 years of Al-Anon.  See, my daughter, was only 4 years old when she looked at me and asked.. "Daddy, are you a ghost?"  I asked her why she would even think that, and she replied, "because you disappear and come back, and then disappear and come back again... kinda like Casper!" (ie. The Friendly Ghost).

I wasn't a ghost, I was a drunk and a drug addict.  

Alcohol rarely had me do any long disappearing acts... as a drunk I was the guy who called everyone he knew, at 2-4am (usually from a hide out) to either tell them how much I loved them or what kind of A** hole they were.  Some people got both calls within minutes of each other.  Then I would be home the next day or two, feeling so shameful, so terrible, that if anyone tried to tell me about what I did, and how it hurt them, I would have to shut down on them, even come up with some insane excuse or explaination that only another insane person would swallow.  However, when drugs came into the picture, (ie:crack and opiates) my shame and guilt was so overwhelming that the only thing that seemed to give me a moment of peace from the internal torment was more dope, and I would not communicate with anyone I loved, or who loved me while using.  Sometimes that meant a disappearing act that lasted a week or two.  And usually when I came up for air, it wasn't because I was done, it was because I was broke and couldn't afford to keep going, or I was sitting in a jail cell or hospital.  So that run was over.  And I would swear to myself, to those that loved me and to the God I didn't understand that "never again would I do that".  Kinda like the alcoholic that swears they will never drive drunk again.  I would swear not to do anything, but to stop drinking or using was not even in the equation.  I meant I would not trust that person with my money to score again, or I would not use my money to get someone else drunk or high, when they left me hanging high and dry when i didn't have anything left myself.  I wouldn't drink in "that crappy bar again, EVER!!!"  Some how, my brain created loop holes around me facing the real problem for many years.  My problem was... I suffered from the disease of alcoholism and addiction, that was untreated, and when ever I stopped for any length of time, I rapidly turned into ME and I couldn't stand it, so another run was in the making.  I was trying to out run my shame and guilt, fear and anxiety, using a bottle, a pipe or a point as the baton in a race I would never be able to win.

It was during one of these runs that my wife left me.  When I say left, I mean left... she took everything, including the toilet paper and light bulbs, the kids, the dog and anything else that reflected any one actually lived on the property.  I woke up on the living room floor the next morning, cuz there wasn't anything else to lay on, and reality finally started to set in...

I picked up a warm beer, that was half empty and left on the kitchen counter, started drinking it, went outside and sat on the curb... with tears running down my face, begging God to help me stop drinking and drugging, knowing I didn't really want to any more... as I took another drink!  I couldn't stop even with all the will power I could muster.  In total despair I reached out to someone and they reached back.  I couldn't do it for the wife any more, she was gone, I couldn't do it for the home and job any more they were gone, I couldn't even do it for the kids any more they were gone,.. I only had one reason left to do it for... I didn't want to die, I didn't want to die alone and I didn't want to die as a drunk/addict!  I actually started the process of recovery on that day.  I finally surrendered and stopped disappearing.  I stopped being a ghost in my own life.

My daughter was 11 years old when she drown in a swimming pool, and I was 8 years sober and clean.  And I pray to this very day that she knows I wasn't a ghost, but a man that suffered from a diasease that I was truly powerless over.  On my own, as a active, untreated alcoholic/addict I am unable to remember the pain, and misery of a few days ago, a week ago, a month ago or a year ago.  But with these 12 step programs, great sponsorship, and a God that absolutely loves me, and my seeing the horrid results of what it is doing to others every day in this world, especally close up and personal with those I love and care greatly for, I am reminded that it would only take one drink or one drug for me to turn into that ghost my daughter once spoke so truly of.  "Out of the mouth of babes comes the truth".

I am so grateful, so honored and so humbled that I'm not a ghost in any ones world any more... tears of gratitude roll down my cheek as I write this.

John