Brainwashed in Scientology and DDNOS

I wanted to delve a little further into something specifically that my doctor had mentioned yesterday. Part of the reason she diagnosed me with DDNOS is because of my previous decade’s involvement with the CoS- and she called it brainwashing.

She explained it this way: Throughout my youth, I compartmentalized myself due to constant trauma. Parts of myself have been frozen in time, for lack of a better term. When I got to Scientology, that was around the same time that I was molested. I’ve told you all before that I was made wrong when I was molested and *I* needed to apologize and make amends to my abuser (I was 12, he has 38). So, whilst in the church, as a coping mechanism, I pushed all of my hurt feelings and trauma way down and began to freeze portions of myself again.

Now that I’m in therapy, and now that I am in an environment where I can freely talk about my trauma and ACTUALLY get SUPPORT, I’m reliving these moments. I am unraveling. Not only that, but I was reprogrammed within the church. This totally makes sense to me.

Being in the Church of Scientology so devoutly for 10+years, I was a different person. They teach you to drop what makes you you. You are made to cut ties, a lot of the time you’re leaving your family, as I did mine. It is actually written in policy:

Hubbard writes in The Auditor, No. 9, 1965: “…the only slim chance this planet has rests on a few slim shoulders, overworked, underpaid and fought — the Scientologist.”

Below is an excerpt from the policy by LRH, Keeping Scientology Working. As Scientologists, we had this kept close to our hearts. Maybe after reading the words, you will understand a little bit more how they make you feel so important, so needed. I had a home. And I was taken advantage of.

I truly believed and had faith in this policy.

 When somebody enrolls, consider he or she has joined up for the duration of the universe — never permit an “open-minded” approach. If they’re going to quit let them quit fast. If they enrolled, they’re aboard; and if they’re aboard, they’re here on the same terms as the rest of us — win or die in the attempt. Never let them be half-minded about being Scientologists. The finest organizations in history have been tough, dedicated organizations. Not one namby-pamby bunch of panty-waist dilettantes have ever made anything. It’s a tough universe. The social veneer makes it seem mild. But only the tigers survive — and even they have a hard time. We’ll survive because we are tough and are dedicated. When we do instruct somebody properly, he becomes more and more tiger. When we instruct half-mindedly and are afraid to offend, scared to enforce, we don’t make students into good Scientologists and that lets everybody down. When Mrs. Pattycake comes to us to be taught, turn that wandering doubt in her eye into a fixed, dedicated glare and she’ll win and we’ll all win. Humor her and we all die a little. The proper instruction attitude is “You’re here so you’re a Scientologist. Now we’re going to make you into an expert auditor no matter what happens, We’d rather have you dead than incapable.”

We’re not playing some minor game in Scientology. It isn’t cute or something to do for lack of something better.

The whole agonized future of this planet, every Man, Woman and Child on it, and your own destiny for the next endless trillions of years depend on what you do here and now with and in Scientology.

This is a deadly serious activity. And if we miss getting out of the trap now, we may never again have another chance.


Scientology- My Personal Experience- Linkdump

A while ago, I promised my personal story in regards to the Church of $cientology. So, this post is going to be a Co$ link dump + an autobiographical recollection of my experiences.

First things first. If you pick up any Scientology book, the first page says this (in so many words),’Never go past a misunderstood word (MU abbreviated). The reason for confusion and boredom is because a person has gone past a word they did not fully understand.” Makes sense. Thus, for the sake of keeping this informational broadcast traditional, I’m going to define certain terms for you all so you’re not scratching your heads in wonderment. The full glossary can also be found here.

Scientology (noun)- a religious system based on the seeking of self-knowledge and spiritual fulfillment through graded courses of study and training. It was founded by American science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard (1911–86) in 1955.
Auditing (noun)- The action of running Scientology or Dianetic processes on a PC (a preclear; someone receiving Scientology processing). Auditing usually involves a Meter, with the PC holding onto the soup cans electrodes, and the Auditor taking down notes and asking questions.
Sea Organization (noun)- The Sea Org, the commanding and controlling element in the cult, partly working off ships, partly land-based at Flag in Clearwater, FLA, the Cedars Complex in Los Angeles, and other places. Think of them as the Navy of Scientology. SO members give their life (literally. Hence the Billion Year Contract) towards expanding Scientology globally.
The Bridge (noun)- The bridge to total freedom; the list of auditing actions needed to get to the highest OT (operating thetan) level.
Reg (noun, verb)- Register, registrar or registration. To sell Scientology services or the salesmen of the Org. “Your next step after course completion is to see the Reg, Sally.” In Sea Org context, to reg or to be regged means to be recruited.

I was introduced to the Church at the ripe age of 12 years, after I had been hospitalized. My family was looking for a permanent psychiatrist to help me. My (half)brother caught wind of this and scooped me up. Remember, he’s 28 years my senior. I was taken to his primary auditor, (for the sake of anonymity, let’s call her Valle) and so it began. Valle is a world-class auditor, winning the Top Auditor Award 8 years in a row. She’s the best of the best in the world of Scientology. And here I was, 12-years-young, vulnerable, impressionable, and utterly depressed. Valle and I established, at that moment, a decade-long relationship of not just Auditor-Client, but mother-daughter. Valle is what they call a “Field Auditor.” This means that she operates as her own service, like a 1099. She is of course affiliated with the Church and the Org(anizations), but she does not report to them. Field Auditors are typically paid more and are highly trained.

A couple years went by. I was going up the bridge, as they say. I was receiving auditing, taking courses, and everything was going great. I was gaining a lot from the knowledge I was receiving and I remember feeling a lot more capable. I was more in control over my life. Then, the molestation occurred between my 38-year-old cousin and I. I spun out of control.

When I was 14, I attempted suicide for the first time. (Although, really, it was the second time unbeknownst to everyone- or to anyone. But that’s another story) My brother had me pack my bags to stay with him for a couple weeks- that turned into 4 years. Since I was living with my grandma, the family agreed it was best to give my nana a break from the “teen drama.”

I remember the car ride to his apartment. I told him about my uncle, about the sexual abuse that had been going on for months, explaining the large gashes all over my wrists and throat. His solution was to get my cousin into auditing.

Weeks went by. My cousin was seeing Valle, receiving therapy, etc. One day, my brother picked me up from school a little early and said we were going to have a family meeting. He drove me to Valle’s office. Sitting in the room was Valle and my cousin. Within that 2 hour long family therapy session, I had carefully constructed the brick barrier around myself that stands tall and erect today.

I was told to take responsibility for my actions. Because in Scientology, they believe we are spiritual beings. We have no age- our bodies age, but we are All Knowing Beings. At 14, I had to apologize to my abuser for seducing him, for keeping him away from his family, for being manipulative. At the end of the session, I had to hug him. And for this moment, I hate my brother for not protecting his little sister.

Years went by. I continued to see Valle. However, now, I was engrossed with Scientology. I say this because I mean this with ever fiber of my being: Scientology brainwashes you. I don’t know how exactly. Maybe it’s the false sense of security, the feeling of being more powerful than everyone else in the world… for me, I felt as if I belonged. It’s a cult. That’s all it is. A really fucking expensive cult. I had been uprooted from my home, from my family. I felt accepted here and loved. I allowed them to take my person.

Fast forward a few more years, I’m 18. I had attempted suicide again. After I had been discharged from my 5150, my brother, once again, scooped me up from my apartment with my belongings. I moved in with Valle. From there, I had become much more involved. One of the Missions (like a church Org, but smaller) was down the street. I joined staff there whilst continuing a 6 hour schedule of auditing.

Sea Org members began to notice my allegiance to the Church. I was a hard worker, I cared about humanity, I was friendly and competent. Soon, I was regged RELENTLESSLY- for WEEKS. They would find me, show up at my door at 11 PM. They once followed me to my car and wouldn’t physically allow me to close my car door. One night, I found myself in one of the recruitment rooms (unbeknownst to me). As they were showing me a briefing video, which I am now convinced is laced with subliminal messages, they had snaked my cell phone away. I went into a panic when I realized I didn’t have communication to anyone. I ran out of the room, up the street of the complex. I was restrained by two recruiters and literally carried back to the room while I was crying and screaming. They somehow managed to convince me that it was just my mind playing tricks, and that I really truly DID want to sign my contract.

I signed my Sea Org contract when I was 18. I sold my belongings, cancelled my health insurance (per their request), and promptly stopped taking my Ativan medication. I cancelled my phone service, deleted my Facebook account, because you’re not allowed to have contact with anyone once you’re routing into the Sea Org. Yes, including family. I made this leap for them. I was routing in with my then-best friend, because she signed her contract, too. She routed in no problem. But then, I was pulled into the Ethics Office. Because of my recent past with the 5150, I wasn’t allowed to route in.

I had a seizure that night and was taken to the ER. The seizure was due to Ativan withdrawal. I had no medical insurance. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t even have my cell phone. I spent the next 9 months hopping from sofa to sofa, searching for work. (I finally found the job I have now- which is Scientology affiliated) Within that time frame, I fell into a severe depression. I contacted Valle, asking for a session because I felt that I may kill myself if I don’t get help. She refused to have any contact with me until I felt more stable and not suicidal anymore…because I would be a liability to the Church if I killed myself under their care…

I just came to a realization one day in the car while riding to God knows where. I don’t know what I was thinking about. But I realized how absurd the Church seemed to me…and I laughed. For 20 minutes. I just laughed at how fucking stupid it all was, and how stupid I was for actually believing the shit I did. I mean, I actually BELIEVED this shit. I believed in the Xenu story- which by the way, I’ll post the video. But real quick, in regards to Xenu…for those of you that are already semi-familiar…the reason Scientologists deny this as true, is because they are told that if you tell ANYONE about the Xenu story before they are ready to hear it, they will fall ill with pneumonia and die. I fucking swear.

The thing about the church is they are VERY adamant about warning their members NEVER to read, listen to, or divulge in what they call Black PR. Meaning, ANYTHING that goes against Scientology or questions it is literally forbidden. If you do happen to read something, you are to attack it, report it, and ignore it. Hello!?!?! What the FUCK was I thinking?!? Cult 101!!!

I was conditioned to ignore the truth. But luckily, I came to my damn senses and I researched the hell out of everything. It’s all so comical. $45,000 later, I realized it all. There’s so much more I could write about, but none of that matters anymore. What matters is getting the truth out there.

I highly recommend Tory Christensen’s YouTube videos for anyone that is slightly interested in learning more about the Co$. She’s also a personal friend of mine, and she is divine.

Here’s an example of Training Rudiments in the church – Operation Clambake. You can find all sorts of gritty details here regarding the Church, L. Ron Hubbard, the Sea Organization, lawsuits against the church, etc.

Here’s a 7 min intro video on OT III, aka the story of Xenu. Yes, this is real. Yes, it’s factual.

While we’re on the levels, here’s the link to the actual handwritten OT Levels.

Website to the Church itself

74 Facts 

My favorite book regarding the Church and her escape…Beyond Belief by Jenna Miscaviage, niece of David Miscaviage, Chairman of the Board and current leader of the Church of Scientology. Worth the read. I’ve read it twice.

Ex-Scientologists: Your Refuge is Here!
Ex-Scientology Kids

The Wonderful Doctor Rogers, a Tale of Insomnia

1 am thoughts:

Can I make it to 4 nights on about 4 hours of sleep total?

Today was interesting. I was just so exhausted, yet wired. I had to stamp 1032 postcards for work, so the repetition was good for me; I didn’t need to think too much.

I was on a strict diet of coffee, cigarettes, and ibuprofen today- coffee to keep me going, cigarettes to curb my anxiety, and ibuprofen because the headache that ensues after drinking 3 glasses of wine at 4 am is a bitch.

Oh, last night. I didn’t think I was going to make it out alive. I felt, I mean I truly felt, that I was slipping away. I have had a few episodes of sheer psychosis. I feel one coming. I thought maybe last night I was going to break.

I’m sitting here, blogging and watching Adventure Time.

I went to a show earlier tonight. It was an Animation Breakdown, sponsored by Cinefamily, for Devin Flynn. This guys is pretty nifty. He’s done animation for Wonder Showzen, Flying Lotus, Adult Swim…

He shared 2 hours worth of animation rarities. It was like a acid trip, to say the least.

1:30 am thoughts

My liver is a champion.

My coworker seemed concerned about me today. I’ve told her a little bit about what was going on. Not too much. She works in my department in human resources, so I feel that I need her to at least know, to some extent, that I’m going through a hard time. She’s definitely covered for me, since our boss is a Scientologist…blah, blah, blahbadyfuck. Wouldn’t he flip if he knew I’m starting meds soon…

Which reminds me, that psych never returned my call. I’m going to go back and grab my script for the Zyprexa. Right? Shouldn’t I at least try it out?

To be quite honest, I’m absolutely terrified of starting medication. Physically and mentally.

I wrote this poem a long time ago when I began my journey on lithium…. It’s called The Wonderful Doctor Rogers. When I submitted my first manuscript, the title of my poetic compilation was called The Wonderful Doctor Rogers and Other Glorious Affairs. (Read out loud, if you want…or not…I’m not the boss of you)

Blinking bulbs buzz around aluminum.
A quiet pulse pushes platinum
through my steel veins.
The monitors above me
spill LCD shadows against my chest.

Where am I?

A dozen rusty-edged cans
lay scattered around
the operating room.
They’re full of wheels and
bolts and screws.

The wonderful Doctor Rogers
shuffles through the white-lit room
lulling a crate of wires.
He turns to me, turns confused.
I cock my mechanical head.
With his large left hand,
he pushes my eyelids down.

I feel pressure on what seems to be my skull.
I listen to the sonic scalpel-scraping sound.

“Now, darling, be still,” he says
with a whispering croak.
“Don’t move an inch.”
A chisel chills my hybrid frame.
My eye sockets feel loose,
and my tendons the same.

The doctor hums a tune or two
as he works away on my skeleton.
“You’ll be good as new once
I’m through with you.”

My wrists pop back into place.
The floor, its swirled with
a demonic face.
This argentate plasma smells
like plastic. My embossed veins

are heavy with it.

2 am thoughts. Dear sleep, where are you?

Day 19- Religion and Spirituality- 31 Days of Bipolar

31 Days of Bipolar

19. If religion and/or spirituality is a part of your mental health regime: what, how and why?

Both religion and spirituality have played important roles in not only my mental health regime, but actually saving me from crises on several occasions. I’ve observed a lot of different religions and rituals. So, I’m going to list them out in chronological order of observance, because yes, each one is essential to my life.

Roman Catholicism-
I grew up and was raised Roman Catholic. When I first started showing symptoms and signs of depression when I was young, I remember church helping me a lot. Not just church, but worship. I like going to mass an singing, I liked praying at night and having my own private dialogue with God- whomever that may be. I enjoyed learning about the bible. Although, to be honest, I never “believed” in the bible. I enjoyed the stories ands I thought Jesus was a real rad dude. I went to Catechism, took my first communion, and completed Confirmation.

I did still go to Catholic church while beginning to stretch my limbs in the CoS. It is promoted in the CoS that you can worship and believe in any other spirituality you so choose and still be a Scientologist (However, once you reach higher levels, you will lose interest in those “phony” religions, anyways. I know because that also happened to me). My years in the CoS are long and full of stories which perhaps I’ll disclose in a Part II of this. However, I’ll focus on the good aspects that I encountered since this is about my mental health.

Scientology offered me a new outlook on the universe, my own strength and willpower as an eternal spiritual being, and my role within the dynamics across the universe. Interconnectedness, if you will.  I went through years of spiritual counseling, which they call Auditing. I cannot deny that auditing recovered and healed some pretty gnarly memories I had. So, for that I thank them.

For everything else, fuck you.

Perhaps Islam is the most dearest religion to my heart. I officially converted in 2009 after I took my Shahada, the first Pillar of Islam. I began researching Islam through my then boyfriend and best friends. We learned about it in World Religions and I couldn’t stop. Something about the religion was so beautiful. By winter of 2009, I had educated myself so well in the religion, that I found myself winning contests and trivia held at our Sunday School- I was the only convert in the classroom. I learned all of my prayers in Arabic, read the Qur’an, ate halal foods, observed Ramadan, and finally, I wore the hijab.

Making the decision to wear hijab was an important time in my life. Many of my friends and family, even teachers, advised me against it, saying I was mocking the religion. Yet, in my heart, even now, I don’t think I’ve ever been more at peace. The connection to God was lost over the years spent in Scientology. So, to recover that helped my soul. Not only that, but there is a sense of pride whilst walking down the street and greeting a fellow hijabi Muslimah.

I never missed a prayer time. I was very, very devout. Although, I wasn’t a Qur’an thumper. I still found beauty in other religions and respected everyone’s beliefs. But in my own world, Islam was making me a better person.

Later that year is when the storm came. I had been raped by 4 men when I first began college. I stopped observing out of anger and depression.

However, as the years have passed by, I still pray in Arabic, I still observe Ramadan, and I still try to make my prayers throughout the day. Not as a Muslim, but as an admirer of God, as an admirer of Islam.

There was a very long gap between religious worship for me from that time. I’m unsure how I became so interested in Hinduism, but it happened. I suppose I started with practicing yoga. It wasn’t just exercise to me, but it was an applied spiritual practice, complete with mantras, meditation, gratitude towards God, and humility. Hinduism is the religion I most relate to. They believe that there are no converts to Hinduism. We are all following our own streams. What matters is that we all meet at the big ocean.

Beauty at it’s finest.

It didn’t take me very long to find myself immersed in Wiccan ways and rituals. I’m not necessarily talking about practicing magick. However, I observed the holidays such as Samhain and Yuletide, and found a great connection to the Earth, Mother Gaia. It helped me through my depression immensely. Whenever I felt that I was slipping from the world, call me a hippie, but I would hug a tree. It helped me. Every time.

Even now, I still observe the holidays.

If someone were to ask me now what religion I adhere to, I suppose I would call myself a Pantheist. I firmly believe that we are all God. We are all the Universe. We are just living at different moments, different times. We all have a lesson to learn and need to be patient with one another.

So, if we’re all God, my own personal experience has been that I’d like to worship myself in as many ways as I can. Whether it be by singing hymns at church, going to community prayer at the mosque, chanting mantras to Ganesh, or going on a hike, it’s all relevant to me.

“You are God, so get good at it.”

Xenu and Xanax

Before you read on, I apologize if anyone is offended. I am a huge supporter of religious freedom.I am not discrediting Scientology, however, I am bitching about the extremist potential that the church tends to hold…at least, in my own personal experience. Yes, a lot of what Scientology has taught me has been of use in my life. This particular recollection is nothing more than a narrative on a bad trip I had in the church (in regards to psychiatric help).

Of course, you are free to make your own evaluations.

I had been introduced to Scientology about ten years ago. This came about after my family had put me in the care of a pediatric psychologist after a bad state of psychosis, which I will inevitably disclose later on, don’t you worry. My brother had considered himself to be a Scientologist for quite some time. So, he freaked the fuck out.

In a quick definition :
a religious system based on the seeking of self-knowledge and spiritual fulfillment through graded courses of study and training. It was founded by American science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard (1911–86) in 1955.

Being that Scientology is all about spiritual fulfillment, usually via the worship of monetary security (excuse the animosity), you can imagine that their arch nemesis is indeed general psychiatry. In layman’s terms, my brother was not about to let me go see a shrink when I could go see a perfectly competent auditor- a term for spiritual counselor. Certainly the Co$ (Church of Scientology) could resuscitate my sanity!

For years I received auditing and even training in the church. Ten years. YEARS. So, for those of you well-seasoned Scios, no. I’m not an ignorant person that happened to stumble into a random Church in Pasadena after falling victim-er- participating in a free street Stress Test (say that 5 times fast!) I lived and breathed Scientology. I even signed my life away to the Sea Organization. I know what I’m talking about.

Remember this, years. I had made these people my family. As you can probably guess, I was not cured. Like I said, there are certain tools that helped me. But, overall, I was still just as bad if not worse by now.

After my aforementioned 5150 hold, I had been struggling immensely with adaptation to the “normal world.” I was unstable, still, and was in need of great help. I turned to my loyal Scientology family. I was denied help of any kind. I was seen as a liability to the Church and was deemed as an unfavorable client. Before I was “allowed” to re-enter my spiritual therapy, I was instructed to immediately stop taking my meds. RX: Lithium, Ativan. In my desperate effort to have somebody listen to me for Christ’s sake, I stopped taking my medication and promptly fell into an even worse depression.

(Again, addressing the Scios, I know what you’re thinking. I don’t give two fucks, though).

In my logic, if someone needs help, specifically help stabilizing, as a mental health practitioner your sole duty is to provide that help. ESPECIALLY if your client is waving a razor blade around with a bottle of Quualudes. Ah, well this is where my frustration sets in.

Let’s delve a bit deeper, shall we? After I had come off of the medication, I had to make amends to the church for even going on them in the first place.

By the way, I am not condoning cure all fantasy pills. I do believe that America is over-drugged. I think we are too quick to get our hands on scripts and are painfully unable to confront to the real problems that cause us grief. However, there are some people who need help. For some of us, it’s medication or death. I know, morbid, right? But seriously.

Back to amends. I mean, I had to really make amends. I scrubbed the church I belonged to. I ran errands for the staff. I begged and pleaded for their forgiveness. They forgave me, alright. One month, a weak body and mind, and $45,000 later, I was able to rejoin the group. Oh, what’s that? Did you notice that dollar amount up there?

This is just a glimpse into the wonderful experience I endured. I’m happy to be back in the hands of mental health professionals. For the love of Christ, I need help.