and then there were none

I have  written about my road ..well back to myself I guess, for several months here.
It isn't what I expected it to be, and as such I found it useful to write out where I was and when. A road map to my own recovery, postcards I could look back on and see what the view was from where I was at various times.

I started writing the blog a little after the point when I felt like I had stopped living in a state of shock, and had intended to transcribe the basic stages it took to get from a state of barely functional to one of just occasional dysfunction, and then organise them so what I was writing "now" followed in a sequence that would make sense.

The idea being that it might help someone else who came behind and felt as lost as I did on the journey - I haven't done that. I'm as surprised as anyone. I have also been surprised at what I did write, often not at all what I intended when I sat down.
I hope you have found it in yourself to forgive the odd self indulgence, frequent bad grammar and inventive approach to spelling and bear with me as I wrote about something I am an unwilling experiencer of..see..experiencer?.is that even a word?

It's a subject I have not found a great deal about on the Internet, and it is altogether easier to chat about giving up drinking or rock polishing,  yet apparently statistics show there are more rejected family members out there than recovering alcoholics..although I have no idea where the data comes from, because it is clearly so rarely talked about.

I have been grateful to see that, well, many many thousands of people have read my blog, and sorry about that too. But for now I am not going to write for a while. For me, where I am now, and for my own well being I feel I need to stop picking at this scab - so I'm going to do just that.