The Power of Choice

With my potential release from prison looming on the horizon, I am struggling to prepare myself to face the many challenges such a transition will undoubtedly present. One of those challenges has been foremost in my thoughts recently and has elicited a fear response from my psyche because it is something that I am unable to prepare for. Overcoming this challenge is probably the most detrimental part of my success in the transition from prison to life.
For my entire thirty years my life has been dictated by others and lived within the bounds of a tight structure. The few instances that I have deviated from the structure in my life and made my own choices didn’t turn out so well. I am accustomed to being told what I can and cannot do, what to wear, what to eat, and how to spend my time.
We all experience limited control over our lives as children. Our parents dress us. Our parents feed us. Our parents tell us when it’s time to go to sleep. From the age of five until we graduate, we go to school, which has its own set of rules, its own dictates and runs on a tight schedule. There is surprisingly little freedom of choice as a child, and in that respect, prison life is similar to life as a child.
I went directly from childhood, albeit a troubled one resembling more a life of abusive servitude than that of a child, to prison. I have spent nearly half my life in prison where I have absolutely no real freedom of choice. I do as I’m told, eat as I’m told, wear what I’m told, and even wake when I am told.
My entire day is rigidly structured around four head counts and three meals. The time in between them is spent working as I’m told, where I’m told, and when I’m told; in recreation which is limited by certain guidelines; or in educational or rehabilitative programming. I have been doing the exact same things, in the exact same way, at the exact same times, for years on end. My life can be lived mechanically.
There is a certain comfort to be found in all of this. When decisions about how to live your life are not yours to make, the responsibilities tied to them are also out of your hands. Worry and stress all but disappear. I know exactly what the next day, or week, or month is going to bring. This is how my life is different from yours.
I’m not naïve enough to believe that people get to dictate their own lives. I know that life dictates itself but that as it plays out, circumstances present themselves that require choices to be made, and that people are free to make choices that determine the outcome of the circumstances.
What triggers my fear is how foreign that concept is for me. My choices have been limited by both the rigid structure of my life and limited to those not already made for me. The only important choice I have had to make in my life is the one that led me to prison.
What is going to happen when I am free to make the choices that determine the path my life takes? What is going to happen when I find that I enjoy something, but that something is counterproductive to the goals I have set for myself? What is going to happen if the road I’ve taken begins to get a bit rough and I have the option to continue on or take the easy way out? What am I going to do when I don’t know what tomorrow will bring?
The truth is I don’t know. I can’t even imagine it. Of course I know already what the right choices are for almost every decision I will ever face in life, but I don’t know if I will be able or willing to make the right decisions. There is no way to prepare for that.
Hopefully, I will find it to be easier than I think it will be and I’m making much ado about nothing. If not, I hope my fears about failure push me always in the right direction.