FIELD REPORT: The Intake Protocol (Survival Mode Analysis)
Subject: Cole Smith
Date of Incident: September 2024
Location: Sudbury Jail (Intake) / Penetanguishene (Unit 4)
Most people think the hardest part of jail is the violence. It isn’t. The hardest part is the first 72 hours. The "Intake Protocol."
This is the moment your identity is stripped, your name is replaced by a number, and you have to build a mask that can keep you alive.
Phase 1: The Slab & The Wave
The Scene: Sudbury Jail Intake. A concrete slab. No pillow. Fluorescent lights that buzz but never turn off.
I had been awake for 30 hours. Cuffed in front of my mother in a courtroom. Hugged her one last time while a guard waited. Now I was just a body in a room designed to make you feel like you’ve already disappeared.
I paced the cell. Panic set in. The realization that I had lost everything—control, career, freedom—hit me like a blunt force trauma. But then, something strange happened.
I stopped pacing. I sat on the slab. And a wave of peace washed over me. It wasn’t happiness. It was the total absence of responsibility. For years, I had been fighting legal battles, hiding addictions, managing lies. Now? I had zero control. I couldn’t fix anything. I couldn’t run anywhere. My heart rate slowed. The anxiety drained out of my chest, replaced by a sinking, heavy calm.
“⚠️ FOREMAN’S NOTE: The Paradox of Surrender
We fight for control until it destroys us.
Sometimes, peace only comes when you are forced to let go of the wheel.
You don’t have to wait for a jail cell to experience this release. You can choose to stop fighting the truth today.
Helplessness is the first step to honesty.”
Phase 2: The Cover Story
The Scene: The peace didn't last long. Survival mode kicked in. "New fish." That’s what they call you. Fresh meat. Untested. And the first question everyone asks is the one that can get you killed: "What are you in for?"
I had about four hours on that slab to build my defense. I couldn’t tell the truth. My real charge was the kind of thing that puts a target on your back instantly. It was too specific, too risky. I needed a lie that was close enough to the truth to be believable—something that carried the same sentence time, but commanded respect instead of contempt.
I chose International Drug Smuggling. Why? It carried the same mandatory minimum sentence. Plus, I had experience buying off the dark web, so I knew the lingo. I could talk the talk. I rehearsed it. Over and over. The details. The tone. The casual confidence of a "businessman."
By the time I walked into the range, I wasn't Cole Smith anymore. I was the Smuggler.
“⚠️The Avatar
We build “Avatars” to protect our vulnerable selves. The “Tough Guy.” The “Funny Guy.” The “Busy Executive.” The The Avatar keeps you safe, but it also keeps you lonely. No one can love you if they only know the character you play. Survival masks are heavy. Carry them as long as you need to, but know when to put them down.”
Phase 3: The Dehumanization
The Scene: 4:00 PM. Processing. "Strip." Naked in front of strangers. Turn around. Bend over. Spread. They handed me the "Full Roll": A jumpsuit, socks, boxers, and a towel. A bundle that smelled like industrial bleach and the last man’s sweat.
I was moved to a tunnel connecting the courthouse to the jail. Two other men were waiting. Both Muslim. One my size, one much bigger. My brain instantly went to threat assessment. Can I take him? Is he armed? Is he with a gang?
We ended up in the same intake cell. We didn't fight. We talked. I watched them pray. We shared stories about our families. They were good men. But the system had trained me—in less than 6 hours—to see them as threats first, humans second.
“⚠️ Threat Assessment
Trauma makes you scan for danger everywhere. When you treat everyone like a threat, you miss out on the allies standing right next to you. Hyper-vigilance is a survival skill in jail. In the real world, it’s just anxiety.”
🛑 The Identity Audit You might not be in a cell, but are you wearing a jumpsuit? Check these 3 indicators to see if you are living in "Survival Mode."
[ ] Indicator 1: The Rehearsed Script Do you have a pre-planned answer for "How are you?" or "How's work?" that hides the real mess?
[ ] Indicator 2: The Threat Scan Do you walk into meetings or family dinners looking for who is going to attack/judge you first?
[ ] Indicator 3: The Avatar Do you feel like you are "playing a character" at work, and you are exhausted by the time you get to your car?
THE RESULT: If you checked these boxes, you are still in Intake. You are surviving, not living. It’s time to drop the roll and be yourself.
DM me "Real". Let’s start the process.
