Looking Through the Fog

By Folo Patterson

Have you ever felt lost, off track, out of alignment or as if something is missing? You are more than likely standing in the middle of the fog and don’t realize it. The author shares his awakening to the density of fog he existed in and how life has never been the same since.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Aug 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781973694380

Folo Patterson

1970-Born in Lake Charles, LA, Folo Patterson is an entrepreneur, Certified Life Coach, as well as a husband and father. Inspired by parts of his own journey, the experiences, discoveries, and revelations expressed in this presentation were written while serving a 10-year sentence.

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Copyright © 2020 Folo Patterson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

WestBow Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-9437-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-9438-0 (e)

WestBow Press rev. date: 08/03/2020

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1 Who Am I

Chapter 2 Reality Check

Chapter 3 What Does It Weigh

Chapter 4 More Than Meets the Eye

Chapter 5 Perfect Storm

Chapter 6 Beyond Comprehension

Chapter 7 Free Walking Inmate

Chapter 8 Quicksand

Chapter 9 Farmer Brown

Chapter 10 Doing Self

Chapter 11 BTB

Chapter 12 Fog Lights

Chapter 13 The Visit

Chapter 14 Bated Breath

To my

Redeemer, who saved me from myself. Without You

the inspiration nor content for this book would be possible.

Thank you, Jesus Christ my Lord!

Special thanks to my family and friends for their support and

continued belief in me throughout this literary journal.

To my Nephew Paco, for being my sounding

board during those final stages. Your input

and support was highly appreciated.

To my mother Boobay, for pressing me, encouraging me and

always praying for me. I’m so blessed to have you as my mother.

Lastly but never least,

To my exceptional wife, for all she has sacrificed and given

of herself in support of me. Thank you for holding me

up and still believing in me through all of this. I couldn’t

have done this without you. UTIP Mi Reina Hermosa!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

INTRODUCTION

Greetings to you as you embark on this literary journey with me. I am not under the delusion that I have written the 8th wonder of the world, or that I have uncovered insight that has never been known to man.

The prominent and prolific Christian author C.S. Lewis once wrote, An author should not conceive himself (or herself) as bringing into existence beauty or wisdom which did not exist before, but simply and solely as trying to embody in terms of his own art some reflection of eternal Beauty and Wisdom.

In parallel to the words of Mr. Lewis, I am simply and solely trying to embody some reflection of eternal beauty and wisdom through the art of this story. Another way it could be said is, there are no new stories to be told, only the expressions of the storyteller.

This is definitely not a self-help book, nor would I primarily label it as a religious book. Nevertheless, the very foundation of it is definitely built upon an absolute spiritual relationship. This story will not display my (non-existent) expertise in psychoanalysis or point out all the technical complexities of the human mind. Instead, it highlights the improbable intertwining of two lives and the profound impact of that mergence.

Although the characters, locations, timelines and events are fictional, this tale is inspired by parts of my real-life journey. I earnestly believe that many think the way I once did and can relate to the lens through which these characters see life.

We live in a world of perception, and that perception shapes the very core of how we live our lives. I hope that when you read my story, you will identify or recognize similar mindsets within yourself. In discovering those similarities, hopefully it will cause introspection and accountability.

There was no perfect human being before Jesus Christ, nor has there been or ever will be one after. This simply means we all need tweaking; some more than others, and some even more than that. The moment we believe our perception is good across the board, we have deceived ourselves and something has gone undetected.

Even as I write this, I will readily admit that I am yet a flawed individual; and in some form or fashion will always be. However, my goal is to continually strive for perfection, which makes me more sensitive to, and accountable for, my thought process; hence, helping me to become more susceptible to fine-tuning.

The idea becomes that we begin to ask questions of ourselves that we don’t always want an honest answer to. This is not to say that everyone is living in a fog. Some have figured it out; however, what if you are one who thinks they have figured it out, or who realizes that they have nothing figured out at all? May the forthcoming story not only be engaging and entertaining, but also bring about insight and motivation to facilitate change. First spark, then flame, nothing remains the same, once you know His name. ~Folo Patterson

CHAPTER 1

WHO AM I

January 10, 2008

This morning, I took my first steps off a transport bus onto a prison yard. I can’t say for sure what time I got here, with everything seemingly overwhelming my senses. For the sake of identifying the time of day, I will say that it was around 10:00 a.m. when we arrived at this prison facility in lower AZ, called Juarez.

My name is now Thibodeaux ADC# 1102-2160, and I have been reduced to a last name and binary code. As I stood at the enclosed entrance of the prison yard, my brain was racing trying to process the sight I was seeing.

There is a chain-linked fence that goes around the enclosure, and it has a small rectangular shaped, free-standing wooden shed – inside the fenced area – that they use as a strip-shack. Man, I wouldn’t have ever imagined using those two words (strip-shack) together, with regards to me. In the weeks leading up to my arrival, I had been stripped stark naked more times than I care to count… I still can’t believe I’m here.

While in county jail, and during the week of processing to get here, there seems to have been an inexhaustible number of stories about what prison-life was like. Stories about what to expect, how hard it would be depending on what yard you were assigned to, and other things.

The disheartening part, I imagine, is that those stories were coming mostly from people who didn’t have the same outlook as I do. So, I really didn’t know how much stock to put in what I heard especially since my approach to all of this would probably be considered least common to most on the yard.

With that being said, I wondered what kind of area I would be put in. What kind of politics go on here? What would be expected or required of me as a new arrival? These are questions that are flooding my mind.

This is a level-3 yard, so that means that the inmates here could be convicted of anything. Before I even made it here, I had already heard that there are quite a few lifers in this yard of one thousand inmates.

I guess now would be as good a time as any to make note of why I’m even writing this stuff down. The previously mentioned outlook of mine, that may be considered uncommon to most, is because I have been trying to do this God thing for a little over a year now. Things like reading the Bible, praying, and I even accepted Jesus into my heart… Well, that’s what I believe I did.

It must have been a step in the right direction, because it seemed to have started a chain reaction of my altering thought process. I was really in a bad place mentally. My marriage was held together by a quickly unraveling thread, and after already sitting in jail for three years, I was emotionally exhausted. I needed to shift the way I’d seen things around me; how I saw myself and my situation. Hopefully, it has prepared me enough for whatever is yet to come.

I told Reina that I was starting to have a more spiritual viewpoint, but it was a little deflating when she responded by saying, Oh, you got saved? Well, good for you. Just make sure it’s not jailhouse religion. I didn’t think it was jailhouse religion; I guess I was just hoping for a bit more support from my wife.

Thankfully though, because I have remained consistent over the past year, she has begun to take me more seriously regarding my change being genuine. Even with that, she is still quick to remind me that it’s easy to say, I’m all in, while I’m still locked up. In all honesty, I can understand her pessimism based on my track record with her.

When it became apparent that I would be going to prison, Reina suggested that I document my experience. That way, if I was truly changing, I would have a record of it to look back on as a reminder. I initially agreed and accepted her suggestion because I really do want to convince her that I have changed. I want her to believe in me again.

Now that I have had time to think about it, I do want to be able to share these experiences with my daughter because this has been life-altering for her as well. I do believe I am a new man who is starting with a blank canvas. Better yet, God is the very canvas upon which the new depiction of my life is being painted. Hopefully, this journal will reflect that.

Before my incarceration, I thought I knew who I was. I didn’t realize that I had been wearing a mask of one kind or another all of my adult life. It wasn’t until this past year that this realization came to light. This in turn, caused me to pay closer attention to the behavior of those around me and how it affects who I am trying to become.

During the time of standing outside the strip-shack, a thought dawned on me. I was now a man with a prison-issued identity, who was about to walk onto a prison yard for the very first time because of who I once was (or wasn’t). I came to understand that whom we portray ourselves to be and who we are, are often not the same person.

As I finally walked through the gate, I wasn’t going to put my game face on or begin to project a tough persona, because for me there would be no more masks. Although I do wish I would’ve embraced this mindset years ago, I must continue to grow into who I am, where I am.

While I was in county jail, I would hear so many stories about the life people were supposedly living on the outside. Varying from how much drugs they were pushing or using, how many women they had, how much money they were making, the kind of cars they drove and so on.

Then, a week later someone else would come in who knew how they lived on the outside and the story would be totally different. It seemed that many tried to acquire some form of respect and wanted to have a name for themselves in there. I don’t know if some of them just didn’t weigh the chance of being exposed, or if they just felt like it was worth taking the risk.

Admittedly, the first few weeks I talked about some of my past exploits too; but of course, there was always someone who would try to top it. That competition caused me to pump my brakes and let those other guys have that lane to themselves. I didn’t want to be looked at as just another storyteller.

In the three years that lead up to this, I have observed a lot. One of the main things I realized is that many people don’t have a clue of who they really are. They are unaware of how busy they have become putting so much energy into being someone else.

I can rightly say that because I recognize that within me, first, it caused me to pay closer attention to what was being portrayed around me. If undetected, I most certainly believe that this mindset translates from county to prison; but then I started thinking about how common it is for those who are physically free.

I guess life outside of prison can, in some ways, be compared to a big masquerade ball. So many people are putting on one mask or another to suit the situation or environment they are in. I had always considered myself adaptable to various settings, but it is a whole other thing when it becomes inventing an alternate identity.

I know I’m supposed to be writing all about my arrival here, but I guess all of these realizations I’ve been having are shedding light on what set the stage for this arrival. So, I’m just gonna see where this train of thought goes. And besides, I’m the only one who’s going to be reading this anyways.

-Tyler chuckled while thinking to himself, So he thought, after reading that last line and as he turned the page. He continued to read the first entry in this journal, he just happened to find written by some guy named Thibodeaux over ten years ago.-

I can remember being a teenager and wearing a mask of innocence like I was quiet and shy around adults. But I was sneaky. I was always plotting on how to get girls and money. Some would say that’s just a boy being a boy, but I question if it’s as simple as that.

I believe because we are so quick to dismiss it as being part of growing up, we don’t realize that the skill of manipulation is being learned, practiced and mastered. Once we begin to have success at using this skill, we begin to employ it more frequently. Until, at some point, the lines of who we are and who we are portraying become blurred.

While in County, my mindset started changing. I recognized that this had become a part of my character and it was triggered by how I perceived things. I begin to understand that my character traits and skill sets were shaped by what the world looked like through my eyes.

This caused me to take a closer look at and try to gain a better understanding of the powerful impact of personal perception in my life. I really wanted to change my outlook just as I still do; even more so now. So, if that meant contemplating things such as this, then that’s what I’m going to do. Man… This writing stuff down is starting to bring out some true introspection; look at me, getting deep with it. I think I’m going to like this whole expressing myself thing.

Reading back over what I have just written has inspired me to explore this train of thought further while I’m in this current writing mood. Plus, the fact that I don’t have a T.V., yet, and I don’t know anyone leaves me with nothing better to do. So, this will continue to pass some time for me while I’m here.

-Soon as Tyler finished reading that paragraph, he was abruptly interrupted by someone who was needing his assistance with a task. Not wanting to seem rude, he willingly helped but was also eager to no longer be needed. His mind was already fixated on wanting to be done so that he could finish reading about Thibodeaux’s first day in prison. Although it started off a quick glance, he was a bit curious as to what Thibodeaux had written next.

Finally, with the task completed, Tyler went back to his reading spot and resumed reading where he left off.-

I just found a dictionary and looked up the word perception. This is what it states, the act or faculty of apprehending by means of the senses or of the mind; condition; understanding. Since I’m sitting here looking up stuff, I figured I might as well look up the word perceive also. It is defined as, to be aware of, know or identified by means of senses.

As I’m digesting what these definitions are describing, what I’ve come up with brings about contemplation: what we perceive, or have a perception of, is formed by how we process something mentally or feel about something emotionally.

I would imagine that this doesn’t have to be based upon fact, just based upon what we think we know or feel regarding that point of view. So, if I’m feeling a certain way, or my reasoning is a certain way, then the way I see it will be a certain way. It’s not surprising that I never looked at it like that before.

-Tyler paused as he mulled over what he had just read. It feels like it’s too much to ponder on; so, he scoffs, shakes it off, and sarcastically mumbles to himself, Is this guy writing a psychology thesis or something? He was amused at what he thought to be a witty reaction, but still he found himself reading right along.-

Logically thinking, this must apply to every human being because it is ingrained in us and is part of our mental faculty – regardless of our mental capacity. I do know that as I’ve started dissecting parts of my life, the realization became clear that the choices I made and actions I took were based on my perception.

Along with that, whatever mask I was wearing at that time was directly influenced by that very same perception. Subsequently, I am not an anomaly but am of a species that is relatively born with the same fundamental cognitional cerebrum. So then, if this is behaviorally part of one, although the representation