Monthly Archives: April 2014

And so it goes…

I got up this morning with one plan in mind: to run until I was physically exhausted and I did. I ran and then I ran some more and when I felt like I wanted to throw up I ran some more. It’s good timing that I`m training for this 5k now because that gets my ass up, out the door, and on the road. The running this morning was less for training, though, and more to ensure I didn`t lose my mind over the intense stress I`m feeling right now. It was my therapy this morning. It’s never easy to get people to understand my life, my struggles, my heartache. Sometimes I just want to be alone, work out whatever I`m feeling in my head on my own.

Deep down I knew Jeremy wasn’t getting transferred right now. A couple of weeks ago he was “rolled up”(told he was getting transferred and to pack his stuff) and at the last minute he was held back. We waited another two weeks, still believing he was on the transfer list, only to have him be refused a transfer again. We’re not exactly sure what is going on, but Jeremy thinks that someone at the prison he was formerly at, and would like to return to, is blocking him or otherwise influencing the denial of a transfer at this time. It could be a number of people who simply do not like him, it could be the correctional officer who falsified her report to get him in trouble, it could be her husband who is a higher up on the chain. It could be any number of people who simply wish to spend their miserable lives judging others where they have absolutely no place to judge.

So, as of right now, I have not spoken with Jeremy since Monday when I saw him but I did receive a call from a family member who has legal call access and Jeremy called him yesterday and said family member called me. I was relieved to hear news but sick to learn the nature of the news. I had been feeling ill the last few days waiting to hear from my husband anyways, so this topped it off. Luckily, I had my trusty bottle of wine which allowed me to somewhat delay the onset of reality. I woke up this morning early, thirty for water and desperate for answers. I know the answers aren’t going to be presented anytime soon, I know there will be more waiting, so I put on my running gear and off I went. I haven’t cried yet and I`m not sure I even can. I find it hard to cry when something I already expected happens. Throughout it all, I still have hope. I have a well of hope inside of me buried under all the hurt, disappointment, and struggle. It’s there and it will rise when the time is right.



Trading sleep for thinking

Insomnia and I are well acquainted and have been well before the days of Jeremy. Anytime any new information is fed to my brain I tend to want to sleep on it, and by sleep I mean lay in bed all night thinking about it until the alarm goes off. Last night was one of those nights. I tossed and turned, feeling overwhelmed and upset and trying to calm the panic in my head. 6 a.m. came too soon and coffee is my savior this morning.

I talked to my husband last night and he informed that they’ve placed him back in an administrative segregation cell and that he has not heard back from his caseworker about his transfer. I let words crush me before I even know what they really mean and I could feel the world slip away and I got quiet. He assured me that he is sure he is going to transfer next week and if not he is going to find out why he is being blocked and get to the bottom of it. I trust my husband, I really do, but I also know how the DOC works, how they don`t give a shit about inmates and their families, how dangling a transfer in front of him, like a carrot, is some game. I get enraged because it isn`t a game, this is our life.

I had requested Monday and Tuesday of next week off, initially to see him, but upon learning of the transfer I had planned on waiting for him to move closer to me and taking those days for myself. Wow. Myself. Me. What a concept. Well, he asked if I could come see him and initially I was angry that he asked me, not because I`m mad at him or that I don`t want to see him, but because I am mentally, emotionally, and physically tired. I told him I didn`t want to make the drive and he didn`t get upset, but simply left me with the sentiment that he would really like to see me.

I immediately reached out to several friends to try to stop the spinning in my head before I crashed myself into some emotional wall. It was nice to connect with a few people, get their thoughts, and settle my mind. I laid in bed for a couple hours and then it happened. I just jumped up, got online to write my husband a quick note( offers families a way to “email” an inmate; the mail is printed at the prison and hand delivered to the inmate, most times quicker than an actual mailed letter) letting him know I was coming to see him, booked my hotel, and mentally settled on a visit.

Now that I`ve put that thought in my head, I am more at peace with my detoured “me weekend”. I DO want to see my husband, desperately, I just tire of being the wind up toy that constantly has to soldier on when I`ve got nothing left. I hope to find strength in connecting with my husband in person. I am way stronger than I give myself credit for and I need to dig deep in this time of uncertainty.



That’s what it feels like when you’re dealing with the Department of Corrections. It all seems so silly and unnecessary a lot of the time. There is a severe lack of order, common sense, and generally knowing how to do a decent job when dealing with, well, anything related to the inmates.

I got a call from Jeremy last night, which was a relief because he was late by a day, and when I asked him how he was, he responded with “not good”. Uh oh. I knew I had to automatically go into super wife mode. I don`t like revealing how much setbacks devastate me so I put on my best Starbucks smile and I deal with prison related issues in a joking manner. Self preservation and all that.

He tells me he is in the infirmary and I laugh because I think this cannot possibly get worse at this point, and luckily it hasn’t. He is in the infirmary right now, stuck essentially, because they’ve approved him to transfer and they told him he was getting on a bus Tuesday and pulled him back at the last moment. Why? Who knows. He thinks that they “overbooked” the transfer bus and he will have to wait until the next one, which is in two weeks. I listened calmly and joked that maybe it was all an April Fool prank just to get him to relax, laugh, and lighten the load on his shoulders that I could hear in his voice.

He has sent a “kite”(prison term for note/request) to his caseworker asking what the issue is. For now he is stuck in the infirmary area because they have no more beds in the unit he was previously in. This is actually good because it means they are so hungry for bed space that they are ready to send him to the other prison as soon as possible. More waiting, more silly, stupid waiting. In the meantime he is stuck in a cell with nothing since they have packed up his property for transfer and then didn`t transfer him when they had intended to.

No order, no paperwork to check to see if, “hey maybe we should count the prisoners that will be transferring before we get them ready to transfer”. Nope. Why? That would actually make sense.

I am crossing my fingers that this is a very small bump in the road and that he will be transferred out in another, now, week and a half.