What's it feel like to be heading to jail

One of the longest and shortest nights of my life was the night before I had to self-surrender to a prison camp. I came to see my sister, who lived not too far from where I was going. We were having dinner, trying to take my mind off things. Of course, all I could do was cry. I felt terrible for making everyone else feel so helpless.

I couldn't eat. I just wanted to go to bed. After a short visit with my sister, we went to our bedroom, where I would have time alone with my husband until morning. There was nothing more to say. I welled up with tears every time he tried to talk to me. He tried to blink back his pain and tears while he kept saying he wished he could go for me. I missed him already, and I had not left.

I don't know if he slept, but I spent the better part of the night praying and trying to memorize my new identity. #26542-045 would be who I was now for the next eighteen months. I knew this would be important. I would say a portion of the rosary and then go through my number four or five times. I have to repeat something over and over to remember it.

When we woke in the morning, my husband began to quiz me about my number. He knew I would have a tough time remembering it. He did this with me to help me remember his mobile number when we first met. We decided we should try to go for breakfast. Who was I kidding? I couldn't eat breakfast either, and I would soon regret that I didn't at least try. I said good-byes to my sister. Dean and I got in the car to make the roughly one hour trip. Again, you have this surreal experience of something taking forever, and at the same time, everything was racing past in my mind.

Don't think about your two boys who are so afraid for you, and you can't help comfort them. Don't think about the birthday's, anniversaries and holidays you will miss with your family. Don't think about the time you are losing where you earn a living to keep your family in good shape. I hoped what I set up to work during my absence is enough. Two of my closest friends worked with me out of the house almost every day, and I felt like I was abandoning them. Then there was Dean, and for the past ten years, we rarely spent a day apart.

I had spent the last almost 30 days having countless dinners, lunches, and coffees saying goodbye to friends and family. I cried every time. It was such an emotional state to be in for too long. At least when I got in the car to leave, I knew I wouldn't have to say one more good-bye.

Now to be clear, I was the one going to prison, so I did not intend to send mail or make phone calls to those on the outside except my two boys and Dean. If I couldn't live in that world, I didn't want to be in any part of it until I could come back to it. I didn't want to know about parties, dinners, concerts, trips that I would miss. Fair or not fair to Dean, I could not listen to any of this. When he told me someone says hi over the phone, I just started crying and got mad at him.

I am a planner, and while it was Thursday, I knew by Saturday Dean would be back to see me for two days in visits. That gave me something to look forward to and to keep me going. I would not even let him come in with me. I dropped and rolled out of the car, and insisted that he keep driving. I intended to have a proper good-bye over the weekend. When I went in, I prepared to donate every item of clothing, knowing they wouldn't let me keep any of it.

I was taken to my new living quarters once I completed my orientation. I would be living with nine other women in a tiny room. Everyone kept referring to it as the trouble makers bus stop as their eyes widened. Why was I being put in here? I had nothing to wear but the white jumpsuit they give you upon arrival. The men's clothes I would be assigned came from laundry, and they are closed. I arrived at 11 am but got stuck in medical behind sick people. I didn't get through until 4 pm. I didn't even finish really.

I am learning that I need to submit names for visitors for processing, and this could take up to two weeks. A rush of fear and panic ripped through me. I knew Dean planned on coming to see me Saturday, Sunday, and Monday morning. More then that, I was planning on being with him. Now I realize I may not see him for a couple of weeks. I was so overwhelmed; I felt sick. I had to calm down. I sent money to be on my books, but nothing had processed. I was unable to call or email him and let him know what was going on. I didn't know when I would be able to do that. I suddenly felt lost in this place. Invisible - no one who knew me knew where I was, what I was doing, or how I was doing? That felt so empty that I had a hard time coping with the reality of what is happening. A sudden concern seemed to rear its ugly head. I had this random thought going over in my head that this place might be harder to get out of then it is to get in.