Sleep

I’m not big on sleep, never have been. In my “other” life, back when I slept in a queen size bed with double thick mattress, I woke up every workday at 4:30 AM. I’d shower, grab coffee, and be on the road by 5:15 AM.



Weekends I’d be hard pressed to sleep beyond 6:30, maybe 7:00. I’d fall asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow.


I always loved mornings, always been a morning person. It took a great deal to keep me up past 10:00 at night.


I never slept well though. A few hours after I fell asleep, I’d wake up wide awake. My mind would spin a thousand miles an hour with what I had to do, worries about the stealing I was involved in, worries about my family. So many times in the middle of the night I’d wake up, listen to my wife breathe and wonder “does she really love me? Do I matter to her and our sons?” I’d force myself to go back to sleep. An hour later, the alarm would go off and I’d spring out of bed and start the entire cycle all over again.


I thought if I drank “just a couple” before bed I’d sleep soundly. It didn’t work out that way. I’d drink three, four, sometimes six drinks, practically pass out, fall asleep, then wake up again an hour or two later blurred eyed.


Sleep was not my friend. I was worn down, living on three, sometimes four hours of sleep a night. I had black circles under my eyes, bloodshot, glazed over lenses. I was fat, exhausted and unable to get a full night’s rest. I hated the dark.


Sleep is different in here. I “live” on a top bunk, five feet off the floor. I’ve been here long enough to get a bottom bunk but I prefer the top. I’m eye level with everyone that walks by.


The bunks are solid steel, seven feet long, thirty inches wide. I sleep on a three inch thick foam mattress packed inside a thick, rubber mesh cover. Two plain white sheets and two blue wool blankets along with a foam and rubber encased pillow (with one white pillow case) makes up my bed linens.


Every Friday I have my laundry guy wash my sheets. I lift my mattress off my bunk and slam it on the floor three or four times to even the foam out. Then, the mattress goes back on the bunk; I tie my sheets back on and remake my bed.


The bunks are spartan. They are uncomfortable. Yet, my sleep is sound. I climb under the covers every night at 10:30 when the lights are turned down. Within fifteen to thirty minutes (depending on what I’m watching on TV) I roll over and fall asleep until 4:30 when I just wake up, no alarm, nothing. I sleep soundly. I wake refreshed. And, I start each day with yoga, Bible reading, prayers, and writing after an early shower. It’s an hour and a half routine every morning, but it gets me ready for the day.


A good number of guys “sleep their bids” away. They stay up late watching TV in their rack (bunk). They blow off breakfast and sleep until 11:30 count. A quick lunch, workout, shower and then nap. Guys will tell you they sleep twelve or more hours a day to cut their bid in half. I don’t buy it. Sleeping on these bunks for hours and hours is no way to overcome the struggle, the loneliness, the emptiness of prison.


I used to sleep in a beautiful, comfortable bed beside a beautiful woman. But, I’ve come to realize, it never really was my bed, our bed. It was hers. It was her life and I was just a bit part in it, easily removed. I now know why I hated to sleep in that bed. I never was made to feel wanted, never told “it’s ours”.


Now, I sleep on a thin, rubbery mattress on hard steel with cheap white sheets. But I sleep.