November
Patron
So, I've been out of the cult for... about five years now. I was a staff member at an org, I was sent to CCInt and Flag for training and spent at least four years within the Sea Org standards of living as an OOT; all told I think I spent six to eight years involved in Scientology.
Despite the fact that life is much better than it was when I was in the cult, I still find myself plagued with problems-problems I attribute to residual emotional blowback from being "in" and then getting "out". Though I have many reasons to be happy in my current life, I am not. I feel depressed at times, I have nightmares, I find it hard to trust others. (Either I think they're incompetent due to cult conditioning, or I am afraid they are as deceptive as the cult was) I find it hard to make friends because I feel obligated to denote I'm "damaged goods" from the get-go, as I am an ex-Scientologist. And on the subject of friends, it's hard to talk to friends about my time involved with the COS, because it's hard for them to have any reality on what it was like, and any attempts to expound usually make me feel like I'm being morose.
My biggest issues are the nightmares. When I first got out, man, it was rough! I'd have these terrors where I'd kick and thrash and scream myself awake. Those faded, and then I settled into a period of about monthly dreams of the cult. Though less frequent, these dreams linger with me, reminding me while I'm awake of just how "not over it" I really am. They're usually always different settings, but the plot is one of three things. A) I am being pursued by the cult to re-join and I usually find myself back in, after a period of resistance. B) I am the 'hero' of the tale, rescuing women and children from the Flag Base, usually followed by a pursuit, and my eventual going back to the cult. C) I am doing a routine action as a cult member, either auditing, being the pc, supervising, doing a meter drill, etc.. and I suddenly remember how false Scientology is. This startles me into stopping the action, and then the other people in my dream force me to forget that Scientology is all a lie.
All three are terrifying, because it's like Orwell's 1984 ending where *spoilers!* Winston Smith ends up loving Big Brother after they tortured him and his lover, Julia. In each and every scenario, despite my REAL intentions of never setting foot in another Scientology building or speaking to a Scientologist ever again, I always "come around" to them at the end.
The tipping point for me happened today, well, last night. It started two weeks ago when I had a "type C" nightmare. I was supervising a courseroom, when I suddenly remembered that everything about the scene was wrong. I tried to leave the courseroom, but my students (who had morphed into goldenrod-clad Flag MAAs) chased me into the basement and forced me to relax. They said that I was having another restimulation, and that I was actually crazy. That my "REAL" life in rural-ville with my goats and dogs and garden was all a fabrication, and that I was only dreaming when I thought I was living there. When I woke up in a cold sweat, I had this fuzzy thought float up from the nightmare, "What if they were right? What if THIS is the dream and when I wake up, I'll find out I'm actually having pneumonia in the ISO dorms?"
Which is one hell of a mindfuck, letmetellyou.
Fortunately, I was able to verify that I am not, in fact, hallucinating my freedom from this cult. The lights work in my house, I can read fine, and pinching hurts. (Don't laugh-I had to test and make sure!)
Though I knew it was all just a bad dream, I became afraid of going to sleep. I try and stay up as long as possible, so by 2 or 4 in the morning I am too exhausted to dream during those few hours of sleep before work. That plan didn't work out so well, because the past two weeks have been a jumble of too many nightmares. Last night, I dreamt that my lover died. In my grief, I wound up in the all-too-convenient arms of the cult. Then I discovered that members of the cult had actually murdered my lover to get me to come back. After I escaped, I had a fight with a giant anaconda, because my subconscious is a dick and likes to fuck with me.
Sure it was a dream, you might say. It felt real. It felt so real that I had to touch my lover, sobbing all the while. This whole day has been gross, I feel like I've got some sort of mental flu.
Right. I'm going to have to stop myself from deleting all of the above text, because I really do think that I need some sort of support group. You were all pretty supportive when I first left, but I revealed too much about myself and OSA got involved.... and i've stayed away ever since. I'm going to try and stay as anonymous as possible now, because of that. However; the closest thing I have to friends who understand what kind of turmoil I'm going through now are an army vet with PTSD from the wars overseas, and an ex-Southern Baptist. Both are really super; but not exactly what I think I need.
I think the intention of this and future posts is for me to gather my thoughts on my experiences in the cult, compare notes as to how my experiences relate to other's, and perhaps find some way to calm myself down long enough to sleep for a few hours without harassing myself in my own dreams.
I spent so much time, these past five years, trying to forget-to push all those bad memories and false ideas into a tiny little close in the back of my mind. But those things we like to shove away can mutate into terrible monsters when we're not looking. Hopefully getting them out of that closet and looking at them through the critical lens of writing will help me.
At least I'm not alone anymore, right?
-November
.:: For some reason, I attempted to post this earlier and it didnt show., sorry for the double post- if that happens! ::.
Despite the fact that life is much better than it was when I was in the cult, I still find myself plagued with problems-problems I attribute to residual emotional blowback from being "in" and then getting "out". Though I have many reasons to be happy in my current life, I am not. I feel depressed at times, I have nightmares, I find it hard to trust others. (Either I think they're incompetent due to cult conditioning, or I am afraid they are as deceptive as the cult was) I find it hard to make friends because I feel obligated to denote I'm "damaged goods" from the get-go, as I am an ex-Scientologist. And on the subject of friends, it's hard to talk to friends about my time involved with the COS, because it's hard for them to have any reality on what it was like, and any attempts to expound usually make me feel like I'm being morose.
My biggest issues are the nightmares. When I first got out, man, it was rough! I'd have these terrors where I'd kick and thrash and scream myself awake. Those faded, and then I settled into a period of about monthly dreams of the cult. Though less frequent, these dreams linger with me, reminding me while I'm awake of just how "not over it" I really am. They're usually always different settings, but the plot is one of three things. A) I am being pursued by the cult to re-join and I usually find myself back in, after a period of resistance. B) I am the 'hero' of the tale, rescuing women and children from the Flag Base, usually followed by a pursuit, and my eventual going back to the cult. C) I am doing a routine action as a cult member, either auditing, being the pc, supervising, doing a meter drill, etc.. and I suddenly remember how false Scientology is. This startles me into stopping the action, and then the other people in my dream force me to forget that Scientology is all a lie.
All three are terrifying, because it's like Orwell's 1984 ending where *spoilers!* Winston Smith ends up loving Big Brother after they tortured him and his lover, Julia. In each and every scenario, despite my REAL intentions of never setting foot in another Scientology building or speaking to a Scientologist ever again, I always "come around" to them at the end.
The tipping point for me happened today, well, last night. It started two weeks ago when I had a "type C" nightmare. I was supervising a courseroom, when I suddenly remembered that everything about the scene was wrong. I tried to leave the courseroom, but my students (who had morphed into goldenrod-clad Flag MAAs) chased me into the basement and forced me to relax. They said that I was having another restimulation, and that I was actually crazy. That my "REAL" life in rural-ville with my goats and dogs and garden was all a fabrication, and that I was only dreaming when I thought I was living there. When I woke up in a cold sweat, I had this fuzzy thought float up from the nightmare, "What if they were right? What if THIS is the dream and when I wake up, I'll find out I'm actually having pneumonia in the ISO dorms?"
Which is one hell of a mindfuck, letmetellyou.
Fortunately, I was able to verify that I am not, in fact, hallucinating my freedom from this cult. The lights work in my house, I can read fine, and pinching hurts. (Don't laugh-I had to test and make sure!)
Though I knew it was all just a bad dream, I became afraid of going to sleep. I try and stay up as long as possible, so by 2 or 4 in the morning I am too exhausted to dream during those few hours of sleep before work. That plan didn't work out so well, because the past two weeks have been a jumble of too many nightmares. Last night, I dreamt that my lover died. In my grief, I wound up in the all-too-convenient arms of the cult. Then I discovered that members of the cult had actually murdered my lover to get me to come back. After I escaped, I had a fight with a giant anaconda, because my subconscious is a dick and likes to fuck with me.
Sure it was a dream, you might say. It felt real. It felt so real that I had to touch my lover, sobbing all the while. This whole day has been gross, I feel like I've got some sort of mental flu.
Right. I'm going to have to stop myself from deleting all of the above text, because I really do think that I need some sort of support group. You were all pretty supportive when I first left, but I revealed too much about myself and OSA got involved.... and i've stayed away ever since. I'm going to try and stay as anonymous as possible now, because of that. However; the closest thing I have to friends who understand what kind of turmoil I'm going through now are an army vet with PTSD from the wars overseas, and an ex-Southern Baptist. Both are really super; but not exactly what I think I need.
I think the intention of this and future posts is for me to gather my thoughts on my experiences in the cult, compare notes as to how my experiences relate to other's, and perhaps find some way to calm myself down long enough to sleep for a few hours without harassing myself in my own dreams.
I spent so much time, these past five years, trying to forget-to push all those bad memories and false ideas into a tiny little close in the back of my mind. But those things we like to shove away can mutate into terrible monsters when we're not looking. Hopefully getting them out of that closet and looking at them through the critical lens of writing will help me.
At least I'm not alone anymore, right?
-November
.:: For some reason, I attempted to post this earlier and it didnt show., sorry for the double post- if that happens! ::.
We're glad you're here. I'm so glad you didn't delete your text. It helps to get it out, I think. And it will help to be able to share and explore with others. I wish I had more time. Know that you are very welcome here.
November!
