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.



About Desiree

Living my truth, one post at a time. View all posts by Desiree

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