Danger Turnip
Patron
So a little disclaimer: This is really long. As you can see. And it was written at 4 in the morning. This is really my first time sharing my story, but I feel that if I don't, I'll explode.
It's a strange feeling, turning 20 and realizing that it's okay to be a kid, to act your age. To be human, and to be embraced for it. I was raised by two dedicated Scientologists, people with answers on the universe and what comes after, but no idea on how to provide for their two children. My dad was on staff when I was a kid and worked a "wog" job in the little remaining time he had. My mom left staff before I was born to take care of my older brother, and the church never forgave her. It's funny how providing for your children can be considered a crime, but per the church, my mother's counter-intentions were the sole cause of my father's financial problems and eventual bankrupcy...the fact that he let other scientologists put IAS accounts on his wife's credit cards and working slave wages for the church never entered into the equation.
Needless to say, childhood sucked. Me and my brother stayed up until four in the morning sometimes waiting for him to come home. We knew where he was though: saving the planet. I knew what a thetan was before I knew my colors and numbers, and I thought for the longest time that was normal. We had a pathetic amount of money as a family, cut substantially by the children's courses the church would force my father to force us to do. I "learned how to learn," but god was I hungry. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was all so silly, that my imaginary friends had more validity than any OT, but those thoughts were Out-Ethics and Not OK, practically federal offences in my brainwashed little mind. Somehow the church convinced my dad that me and my brother needed purifs. I was three and my brother was 5. I'm pretty sure we never did any crack...in fact, my mother even made our baby food from scratch. That would sadly be the last of her contribution to our earliest years, she'd had enough of my dad's shit and went to find what life was about. Though in reality, she was afraid the church would force her to disconnect permanantly from her children. The once-a-week visits were surely better than that.
When I was 7, my dad took me and my brother out of school to "protect us from the psychs." I have a very vivid image of playing in the spinklers on a warm summer day, and my brother ruahing out of the house to tell me that he saw an IAS event that said they (whoever "they" were) could see me and think I was crazy and lock me up with the psychs forever. Now I admit it, I was a spirited little eight-year-old, and my sprinkler-dancing was a tad hyperactive, but that was ridiculous. This was actually the time my mom moved back in with us, she was having health issues and we needed someone to homeschool me and my brother.
When I turned ten, my mom recovered from her health issues and got a job, and even started being our mom again. So naturally the church decided to drain her life once more, but now with feeling! Two recruiters came to our house and regged her for several hours until she signed her life away and joined staff. What started as a forty-hour-a-week gig quickly turned into eighty hours, and my poor mom's poor health returned. She was an auditor, and every so often she'd have an epileptic seizure. Her seniors would drag her into her auditing room until her episode was over and send her back out again to audit her PC.
Around this time, my dad's church needed yet another quota to be met, and who better to pin it on than my father, the perpetual Yes-Man. Apparently every church around the country needed to send someone to Flag for training, only for three months though, you can count on that. Would a Reg ever lie to you? Of course a three month trip quickly became a year long nightmare, and what a year it was. The org paid for me and my brothers food, and for our rent, but the rent was always late and the money we got was around 25-30 dollars a week. The church also thought they owned the house we lived in because of their unreliable payments, so they moved two alcoholic, non-english-speaking staff into our living room. We already had two roommates in our three bedroom house, so this shy, socially awkward kid hid in his room with his instant noodles and dollar chicken sandwiches.
Four months in, my brother joined staff at my dad's org, and then almost instantly he joined the Sea Org. The worst part was that deep down, he just wanted to get to Flag to see our father. What a sad reason to sign your life away, to see your father for a couple days.
With my entire family gone, I decided to join staff at my mom's org. Of course it was their idea, but they have this way of turning their ideas into your ideas real fast. I guess in the end I joined for similar reasons as my brother: to be close to my mom. Maybe pathetic devotee runs in the family. That or lemming.
Well, my dad did eventually return, but he was horrified that I'd joined staff. To this day I wonder if it was a rare showing of his almost non-existant paternal instincts, or if he was just mad that I joined at my mom's church and not his. You know, potential stats and all that. Oh, the love of a father. Well, either way I was stuck now.
So I've rambled on quite a bit here, but I'll probably come back to finish this if that's okay. I think I got more gains out of writing that than any auditing I've received. Oh wait, I was on staff, I didn't get audited! Hahahaha...eh.
It's a strange feeling, turning 20 and realizing that it's okay to be a kid, to act your age. To be human, and to be embraced for it. I was raised by two dedicated Scientologists, people with answers on the universe and what comes after, but no idea on how to provide for their two children. My dad was on staff when I was a kid and worked a "wog" job in the little remaining time he had. My mom left staff before I was born to take care of my older brother, and the church never forgave her. It's funny how providing for your children can be considered a crime, but per the church, my mother's counter-intentions were the sole cause of my father's financial problems and eventual bankrupcy...the fact that he let other scientologists put IAS accounts on his wife's credit cards and working slave wages for the church never entered into the equation.
Needless to say, childhood sucked. Me and my brother stayed up until four in the morning sometimes waiting for him to come home. We knew where he was though: saving the planet. I knew what a thetan was before I knew my colors and numbers, and I thought for the longest time that was normal. We had a pathetic amount of money as a family, cut substantially by the children's courses the church would force my father to force us to do. I "learned how to learn," but god was I hungry. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was all so silly, that my imaginary friends had more validity than any OT, but those thoughts were Out-Ethics and Not OK, practically federal offences in my brainwashed little mind. Somehow the church convinced my dad that me and my brother needed purifs. I was three and my brother was 5. I'm pretty sure we never did any crack...in fact, my mother even made our baby food from scratch. That would sadly be the last of her contribution to our earliest years, she'd had enough of my dad's shit and went to find what life was about. Though in reality, she was afraid the church would force her to disconnect permanantly from her children. The once-a-week visits were surely better than that.
When I was 7, my dad took me and my brother out of school to "protect us from the psychs." I have a very vivid image of playing in the spinklers on a warm summer day, and my brother ruahing out of the house to tell me that he saw an IAS event that said they (whoever "they" were) could see me and think I was crazy and lock me up with the psychs forever. Now I admit it, I was a spirited little eight-year-old, and my sprinkler-dancing was a tad hyperactive, but that was ridiculous. This was actually the time my mom moved back in with us, she was having health issues and we needed someone to homeschool me and my brother.
When I turned ten, my mom recovered from her health issues and got a job, and even started being our mom again. So naturally the church decided to drain her life once more, but now with feeling! Two recruiters came to our house and regged her for several hours until she signed her life away and joined staff. What started as a forty-hour-a-week gig quickly turned into eighty hours, and my poor mom's poor health returned. She was an auditor, and every so often she'd have an epileptic seizure. Her seniors would drag her into her auditing room until her episode was over and send her back out again to audit her PC.
Around this time, my dad's church needed yet another quota to be met, and who better to pin it on than my father, the perpetual Yes-Man. Apparently every church around the country needed to send someone to Flag for training, only for three months though, you can count on that. Would a Reg ever lie to you? Of course a three month trip quickly became a year long nightmare, and what a year it was. The org paid for me and my brothers food, and for our rent, but the rent was always late and the money we got was around 25-30 dollars a week. The church also thought they owned the house we lived in because of their unreliable payments, so they moved two alcoholic, non-english-speaking staff into our living room. We already had two roommates in our three bedroom house, so this shy, socially awkward kid hid in his room with his instant noodles and dollar chicken sandwiches.
Four months in, my brother joined staff at my dad's org, and then almost instantly he joined the Sea Org. The worst part was that deep down, he just wanted to get to Flag to see our father. What a sad reason to sign your life away, to see your father for a couple days.
With my entire family gone, I decided to join staff at my mom's org. Of course it was their idea, but they have this way of turning their ideas into your ideas real fast. I guess in the end I joined for similar reasons as my brother: to be close to my mom. Maybe pathetic devotee runs in the family. That or lemming.
Well, my dad did eventually return, but he was horrified that I'd joined staff. To this day I wonder if it was a rare showing of his almost non-existant paternal instincts, or if he was just mad that I joined at my mom's church and not his. You know, potential stats and all that. Oh, the love of a father. Well, either way I was stuck now.
So I've rambled on quite a bit here, but I'll probably come back to finish this if that's okay. I think I got more gains out of writing that than any auditing I've received. Oh wait, I was on staff, I didn't get audited! Hahahaha...eh.