It’s the night before I surrender, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I’ve spent the last few months preparing—legally, emotionally, mentally—but there’s no real way to prepare for this. I’ve read the books, listened to the advice, talked to consultants from Prison Professors and White Collar Advice. They’ve been invaluable, honestly. They walked me through what to expect, gave me strategies to keep my head on straight, and reminded me that this isn’t the end. But still—there’s nothing more terrifying than the unknown. And right now, prison is the biggest unknown I’ve ever faced.
I’ve spent a lot of time today reflecting on how I got here. The decisions I made, the shortcuts I took, the lines I crossed. It’s not easy to look back and face the truth, but I have to. Accountability is the only way forward. I broke the law. I hurt people. And now I have to face the consequences. No excuses, no spin—just reality. I own it.
That said, I do believe this is a chapter, not the whole book. I’m optimistic. With good behavior and the right programs, I might be out sooner than expected. But whether I’m in for a short time or longer, the mission remains the same: grow, adapt, and rebuild.
Tomorrow, I’ll report to prison. I’ll walk in as a new man, or at least a man committed to becoming new. I’ve been told the first step is to sit back, observe, and listen. So that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll stay out of the way, learn the landscape, figure out who’s who and what’s what.
My family and one close friend will be my anchors on the outside. They’ll be the bridge between here and home. I’ll be journaling, writing book reports, and doing whatever I can to stay productive and positive. This is my chance to lay a new foundation, and even though I’m afraid, I’m ready to begin.
One day left. Time to face it.
