In the middle of the night a woman sits up in bed with her face in her hands. Behind her, nine swords hang in horizontal rows against a black wall. Her quilt is patterned with roses and astrological symbols. The swords do not touch her. They only hang there. The card is about the night when worry in your head grows bigger than any actual wound.
It appears when thoughts chase each other at bedtime. What if I freeze in tomorrow's presentation. What if they read that message the wrong way. What if the card bill is bigger than I think. Each one is small taken alone; at two in the morning every one of them runs to the worst ending.
Reversed, daybreak usually comes. The worry you were holding alone gets said out loud to someone, and the weight comes down. The other direction is worry piled up so long it has leaked into the daytime too, and then the first step is seeing people rather than thinking harder.
The question here is how many of the things you are worried about have actually happened. Split them on paper into 'happened' and 'afraid it might', and the second column is nearly always longer.
It is often read as 'something bad is coming'. Nothing bad happens anywhere in the picture. The idea that it might is what is taking the sleep. It is less a warning than a request to measure the worry again.
With the Moon the anxiety is inflated by imagination, so check whatever can be checked first. With the Sun the night is short; once it is light, most of it turns out to have been nothing much.