"Surrendering yourself to prison is a fundamentally confusing and unnatural experience. One the one hand you are grateful to have been given a little more time with your loved ones, and more time to prepare. You thankfully get to avoid the dreaded "diesel therapy" (This is when the BOP sends you all across the United States by bus or plane, spending a few weeks in different prison settings, with murderers, rapists, child molesters, and the like before arriving to your final designated institution."
"The officer who met me at the gate was a kindly person. He offered to let me stand in the gatehouse to avoid the blistering cold. He performed a breathalyzer and tried to make me feel at ease with some friendly and casual conversation. A second officer eventually showed up. He searched me, counted the money I brought in with me (bringing in cash was a big mistake I would soon learn), and eventually escorted"
I surrendered myself at FPC Morgantown in West Virginia on December 19 to begin a 60-month sentence. Surrendering to prison felt confusing and unnatural, combining gratitude for extra time with deep emotional conflict. I avoided "diesel therapy" and arrived on my own terms, yet turning myself in tugged against primal instincts. The drive with my wife included banal conversation to mask the impending loss of liberty. I hugged and kissed my wife in the visitors parking lot, then walked through freezing wind and rain to my new home. A kindly gate officer offered shelter, administered a breathalyzer, conversed casually, then another officer searched me, counted cash, and escorted me inside.
Read at Bitcoin Magazine
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