Matthew Muniz gives himself a pep talk while counting down the days before he’s released. This time, he says, it’s goodbye prison, forever. 

16 and a wake-up.

I’ve been here before but I’ll never be here again. Take that to the bank and cash it.

Every day is a day closer to getting back to life. I’m 20 years behind my peers. Catching up isn’t necessarily the goal, but falling behind even more isn’t either. I’ve had people ask what I want to do or will do for income, employment. Shit, imma do whatever the fuck I can do to make sure I get a check, get my bills paid, my needs met, and I’m not scamming or stealing or trying to game the system. I’m good. I’m damn good at it. Well, I’m only good until I get caught. Fuck that. Time to find something I’m good at doing without doing wrong.

To be honest, I gotta stay away from scandalous women too. I let it get to me sometimes. Especially after so many years of incarceration, it dominates me sometimes. I gotta stay away from that. Go get me a nice fern or pot of poinsettias to keep alive. I don’t have the time or resources for myself, let alone to entertain a relationship. Apparently my type is toxic. So yeah, that’s not really copacetic in regard to my reintegration into society. A healthier relationship in the future could be possible, but just not right now.

Goodbye prison. This time it’s forever.

I think one of the hardest things I’m going to have to do is to ignore and not reach out to my daughter and her mother. She turns 15 this year. (What the hell? Where did all that time go?) Me and her mother don’t see eye to eye, so I have to ignore that situation and focus on me. It sounds harsh, and yeah it is. I have to ignore my flesh, my blood, my seed, my progeny, as I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been a Father to her. I’m a glorified sperm donor at the moment.

The ignorance of presence that I’ve created by my continual spins through the revolving doors of incarceration is my own fault, and she’s doing okay despite all of that. I think that in order for me to have a positive meaningful relationship, with a more successful chance to be genial to both of us, I have to be rooted. I have to be stable. I have to be positive, situated, and established. Walking the walk, not just talking the talk.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my daughter. I’ve just never really shown it before. I was always selfish and never thought about how my actions might affect that relationship or increase the lack thereof.

Like I said, immediate employment is key. A job. Financial compensation for my time. Something earned to keep my head above water and my ass away from that revolving door.

Alternatively and additionally, I have to find positive things to do to occupy my free time. I have to set some structure for myself. I’m probably going to set myself a curfew. (Imagine a 40-year-old man with a curfew!) Prison is structured. This at this time or that at that time. I need that same shit in my life, not just winging it.

I think one of the things I’m definitely going to pursue is continuation of education. I participated in AutoCAD while I was here. I achieved the title of master drafter. That’s something I’m proud of, and I’d like to further my education with architecture. It actually interests me. I became proficient in three programs: AutoCAD for drafting architecturally and mechanically, Inventor for manufacturing of mainly mechanical items, and Revit for architecture/civil engineering in a 3-D environment based off a 2-D plan. I like it. I’m going to rededicate and educate myself to possibly explore a career in this. I’m actually excited at this prospect. I’d like to learn about 3-D printing as well. FAFSA and other tools like that will definitely assist in this endeavor.

I won’t mind working menial jobs. I’m entering the workforce fresh out of prison and with not much going for me other than I have a heartbeat, I can stand on my feet, lift heavy items, and fill a spot on a constant and consistent basis.

I tried to prepare myself as best as I could. In addition to the titles I earned with the AutoCAD class, I took every course I could while I was locked up this time. I learned how to operate a forklift. I completed the OSHA 10 certification three times, twice for general and once for culinary. I achieved SERVSAFE certification for food handling/food prep (what I grew up knowing as a food handler’s card), but I also did the SERVSAFE manager certification. While both SERVSAFE certificates are nationally recognized, the manager certification is key to food service managerial duties. Some states, like Virginia, dictate that there be at least one SERVSAFE manager-certified employee on duty at all times in the food service industry. A short-term, six- to 12-month job as a fast food manager/assistant manager is indeed a possibility.

I also took the flagger class that was offered. Nationally recognized certification. While most flagging companies do their own individualized training, this is also needed.

I have options. I don’t feel like employment is my issue.

I have to not fall back into old habits. Slips are not an option. They can’t even be in my vocabulary. I am not coming back. A mental midget I will not be. I will make it.

The future is mine. It’s a clay that I have had before, and I never took care of it before. I let others and other things influence and mold my clay with a lack of care.

The root of everything that’s happened to me that had been negative or bad had one thing in common: me. I’m the problem. If I can fix myself, which I’ve been trying to do, or at least correct the negative, I believe that I can be successful. I know I can be successful. I can get out of the recidivism statistic and be one who beats the odds and obtains the stasis of normal people who’ve never been incarcerated.

So what if I’m a felon? It’s not an excuse to fail. It’s not an excuse to not be successful. Not anymore. The 47th president of this country happens to be a felon, so where’s the ceiling? How high is it? I already know how low the floor is, but there’s no telling about how far I can go and keep going.

An issue that people (and me) have is their cognitive thought process. How they rationalize their negative behavior and justify it. I signed up and completed a slew of programs to go with that as well. Going through my certificates, in no particular order: Thinking for a Change, Inside-Out Dad, Victim Impact, Anger Resolution, Advanced Aggression Alternatives, Preps, Re-Entry Cognitive Community, and Citizenship.

Damn, I’ve actually invested a lot of time into preparing to get myself right.

I wish I would’ve put this type of effort into preparing to be free and in the rat race of life the last time (times!) that I got out, instead of just thinking, “Nah, I’m better than all that” and thinking I knew it all. I didn’t know shit. While a lot of the ideas proposed in the programs that I participated in and completed were obvious or pretty much common sense, common sense isn’t all that common for everyone at all times.

I wish I would’ve put this effort into my previous incarcerations to prevent myself from committing crimes, because potentially the subsequent felony convictions and extended stays courtesy of the State Department of Corrections could’ve been avoided. But I also feel like I had to come to hate and loathe and despise prison. Who wants to be here? I know I don’t/didn’t, but why participate in actions that jeopardize and risk that? I’ve worked a lot on myself. I had to find out that I’d rather struggle in the real world than be carefree incarcerated. Yeah, fuck that. I want to be a good person. I am a good person. Time to do that all the time.

There’s a difference in being sorry because you are sincerely regretful/remorseful for poor decision making, and being sorry because you got caught. I’ve had to learn the difference and heartily be meaningful of the errors in my thinking, my incorrectly justified behavior, to realize that this is all avoidable. That this isn’t fun. This is real life, and this is where I take control of it. Me. I hold the steering wheel. I mold the clay.

My newest and last day one begins February 3, 2025. I will make it.

I have 17 days left. Well, that is if I can get my home plan shit together. They lost my bed at the halfway house, and now I may lose my 30 adjustment days. It’s pretty frustrating, but it is what it is.

One thing you learn incarcerated, you gotta go with the flow of things sometimes. Comme-ci, comme-ça.

Matthew Muniz has been released from prison. 

The post Goodbye Prison .. I’m Not Coming Back first appeared on Prison Writers.