In this episode, host Darren shifts the lens inward. After a series built around amplifying voices and breaking silences, he confronts the one voice he’s kept in the background—his own. MX5942 – This Is Me becomes more than a project; it becomes personal. Darren speaks openly about the rumble in his head, the silence that lingered too long, and the truth that refused to be ignored.

No guests. No pretense. Just one mic, one story, one voice finally stepping into the light.

This isn’t for pity or validation.

It’s for clarity. For healing. For truth.

In this mid-season episode of MX5942 – This Is Me, I explain how I along with another pull off one of prison life's boldest favours—an unsanctioned curry run dressed as a medical emergency. From fake sprains to government transport and a Hemel detour featuring one unforgettable punchline, The Curry Run unfolds with razor-sharp timing, laughter, and a quiet kind of trust.

But the mood shifts.

Later in the episode, I share the moment my parole decision landed. Not the letter—the verdict. After all the waiting, tension, and second-guessing, it arrives without fanfare but with life-altering weight.

This episode finds balance between mischief and meaning.

Because behind every foil container and one-liner, there’s a man waiting for a decision that could change everything.

Bonus Episode 1: My Somalian Pad Mate

In this deeply personal bonus episode, Darren shares the story of his Somalian pad mate — a language student and farm worker who witnessed the tragic Black Hawk Down helicopter crash in Mogadishu. Far from the violent fighter portrayed in Hollywood’s version, this young man rushed to help the downed pilots, only to experience heartbreak and loss when his childhood friend was shot trying to save a life.

Through quiet reflection and raw truth, this episode explores the hidden sides of conflict, the courage of ordinary people, and the cost of being misrepresented by history.

This bonus episode accompanies Episode One: "The Beginning."

From Morton Hall's strict warnings-one mistake and you're back in cuffs and shipped out- to the freedom of Springhill open prison, this episode covers my next chapters inside. I talk about my move from jail to jail, the character's I met, including ne who claimed he could read my future, and settling in to life at Springhill, football matches, cheeky banter with the visiting girlfriends and eventually becoming a prison transport driver- its all here, including the quiet moments that built towards my parole.

Ghosted out of Woodhill, I landed in HMP Bedford- a new nick, new faces, and new tension. I quickly crossed paths with a firm out of Ruislip, who wanted a word about old business. From confrontations behind closed doors to standing in the dock at Crown Court, this episode dives into my plea deal, sentencing and the next move in a journey that was far from over.

Trust is everything behind bars- and when someone breaks that trust, there are consequences. In this episode I deal with a con who stole from me, and what followed was a lesson in prisoner justice. No screws, No warnings, just the unwritten rules of survival on the wing.

I didn’t cry when the car door shut.

Didn’t plead. Didn’t ask questions.

There’s a threshold — where adrenaline evaporates and exhaustion takes its place.

That was me.

The officer said “Attempted murder.”

I heard the words but didn’t feel them. They hung in the air like steam.

Then came three days inside a police station.

Three days of questions. Statements. Silence.

And on the fourth morning… court.

Not a dramatic trial — just the beginning.

A judge. A charge. A decision:

Remand at HMP Woodhill.

Woodhill wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

It was clean, clinical — like being sorted into a drawer.

The staff moved with quiet efficiency.

No welcome. No hostility. Just process.

Paperwork. Pat down. Issued greys.

Then the cell.

A rectangle of silence.

No shouting. No banging. Just stillness.

I sat down, kicked off my shoes, and lay flat.

And I slept.

For the first time in days, I slept soundly.

Not peacefully — there’s a difference.

This wasn’t rest.

This was collapse.

Emotionally hollow. Physically gone.

I let the silence carry me.

Even the thoughts in my head gave up.

And that… was enough.

My Journey begins........