The other night, I dreamed I was driving my husband to the prison where he'd been assigned. Something happened to the car and we were unable to continue our trip. The details are, well, dreamlike; all I remember is waking up in a sweat because I couldn't get him to the prison on time. No more sleep that night.
Other nights, I wake up thinking about the morning they searched the house and my anger will keep me awake.
Worry about his safety in prison, worry about his health, worry about whether he will get the medicine he needs.
I worry about what our children will be forced to deal with when the word is out about their father.
I go through cycles. This week has been one with little sleep. Maybe next week will be better.