Born Again Wog

Sai Ninja 2000

Patron with Honors
i'm on the way out. i know its going to be one hell of a journey from this point now, til i'm REALLY free and clear. but i needed and wanted to start posting this. i haven't been on the board for too long, but long enough to feel that if my story can inspire those "still in" who are lurking to have the courage to go through with leaving themselves... well.. thats all i can ask. ESMB saved my life. here we go...

----------------------- Part 1

My story actually begins some time before my introduction (and eventual life turn-over) to Scientology. It is these events leading up to my involvement that made it so hard for me to let go, and made it so hard for me to see what should have been plain as day.

Growing up, life was extremely confusing. My parents had divorced when I was still a baby, and my father had moved away. Living with my mother was not easy. Many times I thought she forgot my name, as she so often preferred to call me "bitch". The beatings she dealt out are another story altogether. Every day was a struggle just to make it to bed that night alive. I lived in fear, and walked around in a cloud of self doubt and betrayal. This was my mother, wasn't she supposed to protect me from pain? I didn't know. I tried to make her happy, doing anything she asked, but it never seemed like the right thing. Somehow I had messed up, I had failed. It was just never enough for her.

And at the time, I had believed in a “God”. But where was God now? Why wasn’t he keeping me safe? Why was he allowing these things to happen to me? It was this sense of betrayal that started it all. Betrayal from my mother for not being what a mother was supposed to be, and betrayal from a god who seemed content to sit back and watch us all suffer.

As I got older, the beatings became more severe. She started using household items as weapons, brooms, drawers, cooking utensils, even high heeled shoes. She remarried and a couple years later, she had a son. I protected him with my life, often taking any blame to spare him from her wrath. It was a very confusing and chaotic time of my life, many parts I simply don't remember, or the events are mixed up. But to me, it is the simple fact that they occurred, not when, that made me who I am today. As you can imagine, I turned into a very angry and rebellious girl. I wasn't wild though, and honestly, my true nature was one of love and wonder. I was just so hurt and disappointed. I had lost all faith in any organized religion, flat out denying the existence of a supreme being for many years.

Nothing made sense to me, and when I was 11 I decided to find out if there was anything out there that might. I didn't want to believe that I was destined to die, having had the childhood I had. It just seemed so unfair. This was when fair and unfair were real terms that I felt belonged in the world. I truly thought "there must be a balance to things". I still don't really know, but I digress. I studied many different religions, buddhism, taoism, judaism, christianity, islam, catholicism. None of it provided me with a solid foundation for the "why"s of life. Such as “why are people the way they are?” and "why didn't anyone love me" and "why is life like this?" And "why am I all alone?" And "why is this happening to me?" I was a very sad child, and by 13 had completely given up in my search for spiritual enlightenment.

At the time, I was attending a Catholic private school. I never really made any friends growing up, and consistently felt alone. The disappointment in my mother’s behavior grew, and became a burning hole in my thoughts. I admit that I thought about suicide every day, waking up in tears at the fact that I had to face another day with her and my awful life, crying myself to sleep, knowing I’d have but only a few hours of bliss in my dreams before having to face reality again. Around this time, I met a boy who was a few years older than me, and it was the first time I’d ever had any feelings like this for anyone. For a short period of time, my little crush on him had me smiling. At the end of the school year, he asked me out and I was absolutely elated. I felt I finally had something to live for. It turned out to be exactly the opposite of what I’d anticipated. A few weeks later, he forced me to have sex with him, and I thought that it would bring me love. I was dead wrong. I was a virgin, and it hurt, more emotionally than physically, especially when he dumped me a few days later. It took me almost 7 years before I looked back on it and realized that it was rape. In fact, in those 7 years, I completely blocked it out of my mind.

(This is probably one of the biggest things for me, because it changed how I felt about love and relationships and sex. It was definitely my “ruin”. I couldn’t understand why I felt the way I did, I couldn’t understand why, when I was older anyway, I couldn’t understand why my friends were having successful relationships full of love, and actually ENJOYING sex while I hated it, and hated the very idea of being touched, and cringed away from the situation if kissing went too far. I wanted to be normal. To this day, I feel I am still recovering from that, trying to get back my sense of appreciation for the act of it. It got to the point where I just refused to get involved with anyone because I’m so screwed up about it.)

Anyway, the following year, I’d had enough of my mother’s treatment. I called my father and told him to come get me, that I didn’t want to live with her anymore, that I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take my brother with me, but I told her that if she touched him again I’d never speak to her again. She hasn’t touched him since. So I moved in with my father the summer after I turned 15.

That’s when it all started. I’d gotten into smoking weed, and to be honest, I was having the time of my life. I had friends, a boyfriend, and had no worries. I never went hungry (as I so often did when my mother was mad at me), I wasn’t being screamed at or hit, and I had freedom. It was a great feeling. My father and I moved into a bigger apartment, and I cant remember how it happened, but my father found a bag of weed among my belongings. Next thing I knew, I was at a local mission, and this guy was talking to me about Scientology.


--------------- more later
 

dontscamme

Patron Meritorious
Still In, I am completely appalled at what your mother did to you as a young child. No words suffice.

Judging from your posts, you have turned out to be a very positive and charming young lady, which is pretty amazing given the horrendous abuse you have suffered.

Like many others, I am rooting for you to complete the process of extricating your life from the CoS. Will be watching for more updates, but do whatever you need to on your own schedule.
 

Wisened One

Crusader
:ohmy: My God, Still-In! :nervous: WOW. What a VERY traumatic childhood you've had! :melodramatic: Glad you got out of it and moved in with your father, tho!

Please....continue tho. We're here for you...
 

quietheart

Patron Meritorious
Still In,
Here's a nice safe :bighug: from one abuse survivor to another. I totally get the weed thing, I stayed stoned unless I was at work for the first year after I left home.
 

La La Lou Lou

Crusader
Still-in, once abused it becomes easy to be abused again.

This time when youve escaped, forget weed, a good counsellor can help.

Best of luck, we're all on the edge of our seats.
 

GreyWolf

Gold Meritorious Patron
Dearest Still In,
Your story got me good and angry and you haven't even got to the sci part yet. No child should be treated that way EVER.

Love

Bob
 

Sai Ninja 2000

Patron with Honors
Still In, I am completely appalled at what your mother did to you as a young child. No words suffice.

Judging from your posts, you have turned out to be a very positive and charming young lady, which is pretty amazing given the horrendous abuse you have suffered.

Like many others, I am rooting for you to complete the process of extricating your life from the CoS. Will be watching for more updates, but do whatever you need to on your own schedule.

thank you for the lovely compliment, dontscamme. :) my mother.. is a wack job. i haven't spoken to her since i left. i'll be posting more as i write and edit it

My God, Still-In! WOW. What a VERY traumatic childhood you've had! Glad you got out of it and moved in with your father, tho!

Please....continue tho. We're here for you...

:bighug: that means a lot coming from you

Still In,
Here's a nice safe :bighug: from one abuse survivor to another. I totally get the weed thing, I stayed stoned unless I was at work for the first year after I left home.

thank you! i'm hoping that you're doing much better now! :heartbeat:

Still-in, once abused it becomes easy to be abused again.

This time when youve escaped, forget weed, a good counsellor can help.

Best of luck, we're all on the edge of our seats.

aint that the truth... i never wanted to be part of a "stereotype" but i fell for a long line of abusive relationships. and then let scientology walk all over me. no more!

Dearest Still In,
Your story got me good and angry and you haven't even got to the sci part yet. No child should be treated that way EVER.

Love

Bob

:baby1: i agree. i hope when i have children that i will have the capacity to love them as much as possible. i am no longer angry about what i went through, though i was for many, many years. i have learned that living my life now as best i can is more important. i'm glad you're interested in reading more :)



more to come!
:wiggle:
 

Cherished

Silver Meritorious Patron
Oh, Babe.

I'm deeply angered and saddened at what you went through. You are such a wonderful young woman despite, and probably also because of, what you've had to deal with. Your future will be very different.
 

thetanic

Gold Meritorious Patron
I had a crazy household for a time as a child -- I can't imagine growing up with that over a longer period. Said parent is now doing well (on psych drugs that control mental health issues).

I can see why, from your perspective, Scientology looked like a way out.
 

Kathy (ImOut)

Gold Meritorious Patron
Still In,

Your beginning story sounds a bit like mine. I also had an abusive mother. Probably not as abusive as yours, but abuse is abuse. Thankfully by the time I hit 14 she wasn't around much, so I was safe. And at 17, the last time she tried to hit me with a metal toothed hair brush, was the last time she tried to hit me.

I also had older brothers that were "encouraged" to beat up on me whenever the mood struck them, which was often.

I sometimes think about getting a head x-ray to see how many healed fractures I have. Yes, a bit morbid, but I'm a bit curious about it, since reading about how even minor brain injuries can have a huge impact on a person.

Loving your story - not that you had to survive what you had to survive, but that you did survive it and that it a sick and twisted way it made you a stronger person (or at least it did me). And that with early abuse from a parent or parents or siblings, we tend to be drawn to abusive people. :confused2:

All I can say, is that since leaving Scn, I've gotten into counseling and it's made a world of difference in regards to my childhood. And when you're finally done with the CofS, I would highly recommend it. Don't wait as long as I did - I was 46 years old when I started with my current counselor (just under a year) and if I'd had this kind of counseling as a late-teen or early adult, I would NOT have made the choices that I had with my life - including Scn. (You can read about my counseling on a thread here on the message board.)
 

Sai Ninja 2000

Patron with Honors
Still In,

Your beginning story sounds a bit like mine. I also had an abusive mother. Probably not as abusive as yours, but abuse is abuse. Thankfully by the time I hit 14 she wasn't around much, so I was safe. And at 17, the last time she tried to hit me with a metal toothed hair brush, was the last time she tried to hit me.

I also had older brothers that were "encouraged" to beat up on me whenever the mood struck them, which was often.

I sometimes think about getting a head x-ray to see how many healed fractures I have. Yes, a bit morbid, but I'm a bit curious about it, since reading about how even minor brain injuries can have a huge impact on a person.

Loving your story - not that you had to survive what you had to survive, but that you did survive it and that it a sick and twisted way it made you a stronger person (or at least it did me). And that with early abuse from a parent or parents or siblings, we tend to be drawn to abusive people. :confused2:

All I can say, is that since leaving Scn, I've gotten into counseling and it's made a world of difference in regards to my childhood. And when you're finally done with the CofS, I would highly recommend it. Don't wait as long as I did - I was 46 years old when I started with my current counselor (just under a year) and if I'd had this kind of counseling as a late-teen or early adult, I would NOT have made the choices that I had with my life - including Scn. (You can read about my counseling on a thread here on the message board.)


goddamn thats rough. i definitely understand the curiosity - i have counted how many scars she's put on me before, from all the times she's dug her fingernails into my hands and arms dragging me around. she one time grabbed me by the hair and swung me into a wall. the woman was a monster. fortunately, i have a good group of friends that i can talk to now. :)
 

Kathy (ImOut)

Gold Meritorious Patron
goddamn thats rough. i definitely understand the curiosity - i have counted how many scars she's put on me before, from all the times she's dug her fingernails into my hands and arms dragging me around. she one time grabbed me by the hair and swung me into a wall. the woman was a monster. fortunately, i have a good group of friends that i can talk to now. :)

I'm glad for you to have people to talk to. PM me if you ever want to.

None of my scars are visible. Thankfully or not. :confused2:

I think my mom got to a point where she was a bit afraid of me. She knew I learned how to protect myself from my brothers, so she knew I was strong for my size.
 

smartone

My Own Boss
OMG, all these stories of abuse - so sad. I wasn't an abused child physically or mentally but my parents argued a lot. The only time I got slapped (once) by my dad was when I told him to f--- off.
 

Sai Ninja 2000

Patron with Honors
Lol smartone. I never would have dared something like that until much later. But I "disconnected" totally from her (not b/c of the church, but b/c she was effin nuts)

I will post more story tonight!!
 
I can only sympathize. I'm sorry to hear about all of the abuse. Children should be protected by the parent, not protected from the parent.

And while you can't forget... do forgive. If you can't/won't do it for her, do it for yourself. It's the magic door to relieve all the stress and anger charged up. It's letting go of the baggage and continuing on with your life. And it's free (except for the effort).
 

HappyGirl

Gold Meritorious Patron
Well, you're loved NOW, SI.
:bighug:
My husband had it like you did growing up. He did not get so damaged by Scn because as bad as it got it was better than his home life. :D

...my father found a bag of weed among my belongings. Next thing I knew, I was at a local mission, and this guy was talking to me about Scientology.
Hahaha! :drama:
 

thetanic

Gold Meritorious Patron
My husband had it like you did growing up. He did not get so damaged by Scn because as bad as it got it was better than his home life. :D
Kinda makes me wonder about the childhood home lives of some of the abusive Scns, y'know?
 

MrNobody

Who needs merits?
Wow, Still In,
Quite a bunch of stories about abusive mothers here, huh? Well, let me add mine, I promise I make it short.

I'll spare you all the details, which some posters here in this thread obviously know all too well from similar personal experiences, and skip right to the end.

I was around 12 at that time when one day my drunken mother once again became furious for no reason, and once again reached for the weapon that had been responsible for some stitches in the emergency center of our hospital for me several times before. However, it was enough and I "decided" within a millisecond to break that arm before it could grab that weapon - and so I did. Then I just went back to my room, put my headphones on and let others take her to the hospital.

End of story: She tried to make me feel bad for what I had done for the years to come, which is the main reason for me leaving my home when I was 16, but she never ever touched me again.

For those who think I'm a brutal, heartless <insert swear word here>: Nowadays she's just an old woman who needs a lot of help with all her health issues and all that jazz, so I visit her several times per week and take care of her as good as I can. I just never regretted what I did that day. After all, it was the day when I decided that I will never allow anyone to abuse me again.
 

Sai Ninja 2000

Patron with Honors
Wow, Still In,
Quite a bunch of stories about abusive mothers here, huh? Well, let me add mine, I promise I make it short.

I'll spare you all the details, which some posters here in this thread obviously know all too well from similar personal experiences, and skip right to the end.

I was around 12 at that time when one day my drunken mother once again became furious for no reason, and once again reached for the weapon that had been responsible for some stitches in the emergency center of our hospital for me several times before. However, it was enough and I "decided" within a millisecond to break that arm before it could grab that weapon - and so I did. Then I just went back to my room, put my headphones on and let others take her to the hospital.

End of story: She tried to make me feel bad for what I had done for the years to come, which is the main reason for me leaving my home when I was 16, but she never ever touched me again.

For those who think I'm a brutal, heartless <insert swear word here>: Nowadays she's just an old woman who needs a lot of help with all her health issues and all that jazz, so I visit her several times per week and take care of her as good as I can. I just never regretted what I did that day. After all, it was the day when I decided that I will never allow anyone to abuse me again.

i dont think you are heartless. the very last time my mother tried to hit me, she came at me with a broom and i made the same kinda decision. in a millisecond, i shot my arm out and grabbed the broom and knocked her legs out from under her. i took the broom with me upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom (she had taken the door off my bedroom so i couldn't do that). the very next day, my dad came and got me.
 
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