Just a nother day in the life

In two months, I will be picking up my son from prison and bringing him home. 30 long and painful months of seperation and incarceration, for both of us, will be over. I actually try not to think of it too much as I readily burst into tears at the prospect. I fear the nightmares in which my sleeping brain says he is already home and I awake to find it only a dream. I busy myself with the mundane and profane, anything to help keep me anchored in the here and the now.
I can't even imagine the overwhelming emotional cascades that are sure to come. The seperation, his imprisonment....was the most painful terror I had experienced in my adult life. We have made it this far. Hang in there, Son, we are almost there.
Another week of battling back the flashbacks of incidents long past....horrid, wretched films of scenes...no one should ever witness, much less, be a part of. Therapy continues to be key to my "success" and a cornerstone of my waking life. I'm tackling some heavy duty, long standing, deeply rooted issues. Yikes. Therapy is a love-hate relationship, fer sure.

I suddenly realize how sequestered and non social I have been this past month. I have only engaged in conversations with my immediate family and therapist. I haven't been out of the house enough to interact and run in to my friends and neighbors for any in depth conversations. Funny, I frequently don't notice my lack of social interaction but once every couple of months. I look back and I've really just been off on my own, not even seeking outside connection. Such is the autistic life, eh?
Awareness, like integration, isn't all it's cracked up to be. Overrated, is another word that comes to mind. What good is awareness without the capacity to change? Small steps and leaps of faith. Awareness seems to start the internal motor, the impetus to want to change, to be better, more improved and dareisay, happy?
I am an introvert...probably the most introverted person you will ever read about or know. I'm so internalized that I don't often really grasp my distance from the outside, "real" world, but once in a very great while. I've grown uncomfortably accustomed to my aloneness, to the point where it no longer frightens me. It's just who I am. I operate within my full capabilities, nothing more, nothing less.