Tuesday, 31 May 2011

My Story Continued.......Abellund - Denmark.

Upon arrival in Denmark, at Abellund I knew something was wrong straight away.I arrived in the middle of the afternoon and was still outside on the driveway when Commander Jill van Staden said "we are going for a drive". I wasn't quite sure what was coming but I knew something was.
As soon as we were off and away down a country road she told me my Dad was no longer there.He was in a condition of Treason. Treason to me meant betraying your country, a spy or some such thing. I could not put my Dad and treason in the same sentence. I'd seen others in Treason on the Apollo, but this was different. It was my Dad in treason and he wasn't there. According to Jill they didn't know where he was. I just had to accept it, I could no longer have anything to do with my own Father, the rules as dictated by L. Ron Hubbard said that and as a good little sea org member I would abide by those rules, silently.

It's weird, she took me shopping in a boutique to look at clothes, as if that would make up for lack of a Dad. Tears streaming down my face, in a public place, trying desperately to keep a grip on things because that was what was expected of me. ( I was about 15 yrs old before I figured out why they did that. Get her off the org premises so the others don't see how she reacts, get her in a strange place with lots of people about, so she has to try and keep it together. Totally disorientate her and she will comply, because she has no other choice). And, I did.

Everything is ok now, you're with the happy smiling sea org officers, what could possibly be wrong.

The only good thing was I was off the ship, on dry land. Only here I didn't know anyone.I was so desperately alone.

Abellund was very different from the Apollo. It did appear on the surface to be far more laid back. I say on the surface, because I.m sure there were things going on behind the scenes to which I was not privy.

The main house or org was a large old farmhouse, there was a huge reception room to the left of the front door, which during the few months I was there, nearly always seemed to be open. On the right leading off a hallway was the kitchen, where the cook often baked bread and cookies and on occasion called me in to have some freshly baked bread.

On the left about 40 feet away from the kitchen end of the main building was an other building, which had about 4/5 beds in the room on the ground floor. This is where I slept. The room was cramped but the beds were only single and the room was reasonably clean and pleasant.

Also on the left as you came out of the birthing building, on the lawn was a trampoline. I spent all of my spare time bouncing up and down on this.

Behind the building I slept in was yet another house and this was where the farmer and his wife lived, there were also an assortment of out buildings. The entire place was surrounded by fields and large lawns, shrubs and trees.Further up ant to the right of the main building was another building which is where the CO/ Joe van Staden had his birthing.

I don't recall if there was a muster there in the mornings or not. There certainly weren't any overboardings.

When I wasn't occupied, my mind constantly wondered what had happened to my Dad.There was no one I could talk to about it, as it was a given that I was not allowed to see him again or talk to him for that matter. I felt very much in limbo. At a complete loss as to what was going to happen to me. There I was in a foreign country with all these strangers, Joe and Jill may have been on the Apollo, but I didn't know them. After a while I sort of saw Jill as a friend, she took me into the nearest town a couple of times to go shopping. We would chat about things at times, never about the dreaded treasonous Sp - my Father.

There was a girl who used to come and stay with the farmer and his wife, Sylvie, she was about 16 years old and really hippified, smelt of patchoullie oil and wore weird clothes, or so I thought at the time.She had this little pouch with drawstrings attached to her belt, she often used to join me on the trampoline and would ask me to hold her pouch but told me I was never to open it or look inside. Sometimes Sylvie was really buzzing and other times she looked dreadful. I never really knew what to make of her, but she was nice and she wasn't a scientologist or in the sea org. She didn't talk about case or auditing or OOD or lower conditions or even scientology at all, I liked that.

I hadn't seen her for a while and went looking for her and was horrified to find her in a little concrete out house, like somewhere you would keep your coal in old British council houses. Lying on the floor on some blankets and shivering un controllably. I was really upset and was about to go and get her some help, but she grabbed my arm and told me there was no help for her. I didn't know it then, but I now realise that was cold turkey, by then I knew the contents of her pouch and she freely told me she was a drug addict.She was in a bad way, I sat with her late into the night, until she made me leave before I got into trouble. I went to check on her the next day, but she had gone, I never saw her again

One morning I was greeted by Jill, who informed me my Dad, had been there at Abellund the night before. My heart leapt, only to be then told he had now gone. I asked "why didn't someone come and get me?" Jill said "you know the rules". She was right, I did know the rules only too well.I fought back the tears and the screams that were trying to engulf me. She asked me if I was alright. Allright? ALLRIGHT?????? Yes, I said matter of factly,I'm fine. As I turned to walk away, I saw the EO talking to another man, they were laughing an joking about what a night they had had, bull baiting my Dad, then they let him go early in the morning. I said "where did he spend the night?", and pointing to the cupboard under the stairs, he said "in there". There was a key sitting in the lock. I said "in there?"Looking at the cupboard in disbelief.

It's hard to explain how I felt, my whole body was churning up inside, like some gigantic volcano about to errupt, but I was silent all the while. My mind doing wheelies, going round and round and round.I kept thinking if he'd been there and he knew I was there, he would not go without me. I had it in my head he must be hiding out, biding his time and we would escape together. It's all that kept me going for the next hour or two. I had to make it appear that I was unconcerned, that it didn't matter. I got on with the mornings chores. I knew I was being watched. I was determined not to show any emotion, not easy when you're boiling and bubbling away.

When I finally got away by myself, I started combing the outskirts of the premises, I walked round the far edges of the land , in amongst the wooded areas. When far enough away I started calling out, quietly at first, scared I would be caught, if I just found my Dad , everything would be ok, he would look after me, protect me. I started calling louder, he wasn't answering, why wasn't he answering. He had to be here somewhere, where the hell was he. I was starting to get frantic, sobbing, shouting louder and louder, DAD !!!!!!!!!! DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!DAAAADD, then screamingDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD. I was met with silence. I was sobbing uncontrollably now and slumped down on the ground by a tree.

I could not believe he had left me there. When I finally stopped sobbing, my mind got to work again and I thought he must have gone to get help, he would come back with help, he'd bring the police with him. It would be ok, I just had to be patient.

I spent the next few days going off in different directions every available chance I got looking for him, still convinced he would not leave me there.

After a few days I gave up, back to not knowing what to think. I felt like my heart had been ripped out and my mind was numb.

I became friends with Maria Maloney, again she was older than me, about 17/18 years old at the time. We would often talk about the strange goings on in the sea org. Nothing in particular, just that there was some really creepy stuff going on, people disappearing like my Father. She told me to be very careful who I trusted, I already knew this and therefore trusted no one, not even her completely, One day we were sitting down outside somewhere, away from prying ears trying to make some sence out of the 'dissappearing people', this was conspiracy theory stuff and we laughed about if anybody heard us they would think we were mad/insane and we would be put in a nut house. I felt srangely uncomfortable, even while laughing because I felt it was true.

A whole load of students started arriving at Abellund, mainly Swedish and some Danish, possibly some Norwegians also. Most spoke pretty good English, they had come to do some courses. A few of the Swedish girls shared my birthing. They were really nice and fun to be around.

After a few weeks they told me they were headed off to the Apollo. They could not understand my reluctance to talk about the Apollo, I had been there and they knew I was a messenger. I told the "shore story", we were not permitted to discuss it. They were so excited about meeting LRH,going to the best place on earth, the flagship, Apollo. I felt dreadful everytime they brought it up. I couldn't tell them anything and yet I wanted to, I wanted to say "don't go". I didn't want them to go. To this day I feel bad, that they would have found out for themselves, that the great L. Ron Hubbard was not this amazing guru that offered spiritual enlightenment, but someone who turned people into shells of their former selves.One of the girls was called Katarina and another Eva, they were really pretty aged about 18/20 years old. I really missed them when they left, the dorm was empty once more except for myself. I was racked with guilt about what might be in store for them aboard the Apollo.

At some point in time it was decided that I would be in charge of birthing. I had to change the beds and arrange accomadation for new people arriving. I got overwhelmed with the work, and kept getting complaints about lack of clean bedding.

One time we had an Officer arriving, he was a VIP, I don't remember his name or rank, just that his birthing had to be good. There was no where to put him. The only room that had lots of space was the Commanding Officers room. Joe van Stadens'. I knew it probably wouldn't go down too well, but was at a loss as to where to put him, this VIP. So, I got a spare bed,and made it up in the Commanding Officers room. Joe went ballistic. I don't know where the VIP ended up, but I got took off of birthing.

I bounced my frustrations away on the trampoline.

Chris, the cooks son was really nice and I think he had a crush on Maria. Anyway, one night it was decided they were going out into Copenhagen. Maria had said she would arrange that I could go with them. I don't think Chris was very happy about that. I was very excited at the possibility of getting off the premises for a few hours. Apart from a couple of shopping trips with Jill, I hadn't left the org for months. A couple of hours before we were due to go, Maria came and told me I couldn't go. I was very upset. I went to my room and cried and cried. I was so sick of this place. I felt so abandoned, it was like the whole world was against me.

Maria came back and found me crimson with crying and said she would sort it out that I would go with them.

We drove into Copenhagen and went to the Tivoli center. We walked around the gardens. Ella Fitzgerald was singing live there that night, and although we couldn't go in, we could hear her from outside. There was this amazing woman walked past, dressed in a jade green cat suit, with long deep red hair, she was stunning.

After the Tivoli gardens we went to a night club.That was weird. There I was this little 12 year old girl sitting there sipping my coke, while Chris and Maria danced and all the while this big black bouncer just kept staring at me.I felt very uncomfortable.

I had a crush on this Swedish man, he came to do courses with alot of the other students. I never told anyone, except him. The next thing I knew, while standing in the doorway talking to Jill, Maria and another woman, (I think she was american, she was short, reddish hair and had the most bowed legs I have ever seen ) Jill asked me if I was having sex. Considering I didn't really know what sex was, I was dumbfounded. Iv'e been wondering about this and wonder if it came up in session?

It was decided that I had to do something,after a conversation with Jill, I wrote to LRH and asked permission for a leave of absence to go home to England to get an education, it would get me away from there - I would find my Dad. I wrote to LRH, hoping he would agree, an education would make me a better sea org member. He wrote back, wishing me luck and that i would come back when I had completed my education.My next task was to write to my stepmother whom I had only met twice, she was married to my Dad and I figured she must have some idea of where he was.I asked if I could go and live with her. She replied with a "yes".

It never occurred to me to ask my Mother(first stepmother) as I had written a few times while on the ship and never heard back from her. So when she turned up at Abellund one day, I was amazed and very happy to see her. I was more jubilant that day than I could ever remember. I was allowed to go and spend the weekend with her and my two brothers and my Mothers new partner, who was Swedish.

She had offered to let me go and live with them, they were moving to a Swedish org. I thought about it, and knew it would not get me away from the sea org. My only hope was to be back in my own country, I would still be living with a scientologist but I would be home, away from the sea org. By now, also, I was convinced there was a big plot to keep me away from my Father.Much as I loved my Mother and brothers, I had to find my Father.

My Mother even said "you know you won't find you're Dad don't you?" "Yes, I know" I said, hoping that this would not be true. In my childish mind, how could this be, that my Dad could just disappear off the face of the earth. How could it be that these people could stop you from seeing or speaking to your own parent. After all I had been through I could only think that there had to be something very wrong with these people. I never saw or heard of my Mother or brothers again

I was allowed to phone a friend, Jill stayed in the room when I phoned my best friend at home in England. Whilst on the phone I learnt that my friend had seen me on a documentary on TV, it was hard to believe, I'd been on telly. It was to be very many years before I saw myself on the Shrinking World of L. Ron Hubbard.

Shortly before I was due to leave Abellund much to my horror the MAA from the Apollo turned up in a taxi one afternoon. Yet again, racked with guilt about ripping up the ethics chit to have me thrown overboard. What was he doing here? It was even harder to hide from him here than it was on the Apollo, none the less i tried to keep out of his way.

There was a big celebration of some sort and we were having a big party in the main reception room. I spent the whole day helping the cook in preparations for the party. There was a piano moved into the room and lots of food prepared. It was a fun time, with lots of music and singing. The MAA from the ship was an excellent pianist, but he was also into heavy ethics.

Later in the evening he cornered me in the hallway, I was a nervous wreck. He told me he knew what I had done, and what big trouble I would be in if he told on me. He told me that it was crazy on the Apollo, things had got way out of controll. He told me that there would be no point in ever telling anyone about what I had seen or heard on the Apollo because no one would ever believe me, it was all just too crazy. He said "you know what happens to crazy people". I was literally shaking, and he was right in my face. He told me he was going home, back to Sweden.

The next day he was gone.

Yeah, it was much more laid back at Abellund, everytime you thought the nightmare had ended, you got a short sharp shock back into reality.

I was besides myself when I learnt I had to have a security check. It wasn't that I had anything terrible to hide, except for my contempt for LRH and MSH and the sea org and scientology.

No matter how I tried to console myself, those were big crimes. You were not allowed to think bad things about the sea org, scientology and certainly not LRH or MSH.

How could I think otherwise, these people , this organization had made my Dad disappear without any proper explanation. He was an SP, well what the hell does that mean when you are 12 years old.

Had he killed somebody? Had he spied and betrayed his country? Was he a smuggler? Just what had he done that made him an SP? I didn't even really know what an SP was, just that it was someone terrible, some awful degraded being. That was my Dad. L. Ron Hubbard said so. Well L.ron Hubbard did not say this to me personally. Jill van Staden did, but it came from L. Ron Hubbard just the same. Because this was his world we were living in.What LRH said every body followed to the letter. He was the Commadore, he was this incredible man that everybody looked up to. Everyone had to follow his orders and they did.

Oh my god, I have to go on the e-meter. How the hell am I ever going to get away. The e-meter will know if I'm lying. You cannot fool the e-meter. It will know.I can't bare the thought of being locked up again. I'm not on the ship, but these people will do it anyway because they locked my Dad up. They will lock anyone up if you don't believe the same things they do.

I was terrified of going on the e-meter.

I had two choices. I could admitt that I hated LRH, scientology and all it stood for or I could lie, hope for the best. Either way I was doomed.

When I sat down in front of the auditor I was a bag of nerves. He noticed this and told me there was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to be afraid of. This same man had bullbaited my Dad. I wasn't sure what that meant at the time, but after he had said this he had admitted to locking my Dad in a cupboard. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to be afraid of. I was terrified.

I do not remember all of the questions asked of me. At the time I remember thinking what kind of weird questions were these. Many of them I did not understand. I was befuddled and scared. The man who was on the other end of the e-meter kept having to repeat the questions. He asked me about things when I was much younger. I remembered something about Little Baldwins, it was something to do with telling a lie, or upsetting someone. It was strange and I kept thinking why is he asking me this. The one question that has always stuck in my mind is "do you have any bad thoughts about L. Ron Hubbard?" OH GOD - I hated him and everything he stood for, how was I ever going to get away. My mind was in turmoil and I knew If I didn't get this right I was finnished, caput. I replied with "Why would I have anything bad to say about LRH?" I remember laughing because I was so nervous, as If it was a rediculous question to ask. I didn't know how I got away with it but I did. We then went on to Mary sue and scientology. No, I was going to become a better sea org member. The e-meter was not GOD after all. It could not read my thoughts. I had always believed you could not lie to an e-meter. I had lied about not having bad thoughts about LRH and the stupid e-meter had not detected that lie.

I couldn't believe it when I was free to go. I was elated. I was going to be allowed to go back to England. You have no idea how good that felt. My mind was still in turmoil, but I was going home. Sort of.

I had lent Maria some money and she had promised to pay it back before she left, she didn't. I had to stay a week longer in order to pay for my flight home. I had very little in the way of money and what I did have was in Kroner.

The flight home was surreal. I couldn't believe I was actually going to get away. In my minds eye I had visions of arriving home to my stepmothers and my Dad miraculously appearing. All would be well.

Someone drove me to the airport and I was handed to an airline stewardess who was going to look after me on the flight. She was very friendly and did look after me. My mind was full of all sorts of weirds stuff. What was my step mother really like? Would my Dad appear? Was this real? Was I dreaming? I felt like I was in another world. Reality check. I was in another world. A family came and sat in the seats next to me. The mother in particular was very uptone and wanted to know why I was travelling by myself? Oh God, what was I supposed to say?Give them a shore story . Tell an exceptable truth. "I've been visiting family" I said. My mother and brothers came into my head. I didn't say what family. "I'm going home" I said.In my mind I kept thinking about the MAA and what he had said. I could not tell them where I had really been and what had happened to me. I couldn't tell them about the Apollo or that my Dad was an Sp.What would they think of that? They would think I was a nutcase and I would be locked up. If I stayed in the sea org, I would be locked up. If I told anyone about what happened I would be locked up. There was nowhere to go, except inside my head.

When we arrived in England, this happy, caring family were very concerned that there was no one there to meet me at the airport. The mother was quite insistant that she should have a phone number to call my parents. What were they thinking leaving me to fend for myself at that time of night on my own. I kept assuring them that it was alright. It was with great difficulty that I managed to persuade them to leave me alone.

Finally we said our goodbyes and I got into the taxi and headed off to the coachhouse in East. Grinstead. Not far from St. Hill Manor.

I had only been there once before at Christmas, when my Mother had taken us to see our Father. I think it was on Boxing Day. Everything on the surface was happy, happy. My younger brothers didn't know any different and I was delighted to see my Dad, but the happy, happy scene was far from the projected image that was portrayed.

My Mother had bought me the most fantastic dress ever for Christmas.Very sixties style. A sort of shift(straight dress)no sleeves. Pink and silver horizontal, spirally stripes and all sparkly and silvery sparkly tights to go with it. That was the best Christmas present ever. I wore it when we visited my Dad.

My mind kept drifting to thoughts of of my Mother, the Apollo, and what was in store for me at my new Mothers house. I was still convinced my Dad would suddenly appear and everything would be alright. I had to keep that thought in my mind. It would be alright ,wouldn't it?

I was pulled out of my daydreamings when the taxi driver said "this is a very long way, you do have enough money to pay for the fare, don't you". I was a bit panicked, what If I didn't but assured myself and the taxi driver that If I didn't there would not be a problem as someone would pay at the other end.

We arrived at the coach house somewhere around midnight. There were lights on in the house, but noone was home. I didn't have enough fare for the taxi and kept telling him someone would be there any minute. They were expecting me.Any minute came and went, he sat there with me in the middle of nowhere for about half an hour. He was not very happy as he had a long way to drive back and hadn't got the correct fare. I remembered my Kroners and offered all of them to him. I didn't know what else to do. Begrudgingly he finally accepted them. I think he was also a little concerned about leaving me there in the middle of nowhere on my own in the dark. He apolagized for having to go.

There was a bit of light from a room on the ground floor of the coach house, but other than that it was pitch black. I wandered up and down for a while. I knocked on the door again and again. Nothing. No one.

I sat down on my one brown suitcase, with my brown carrycase that held my e-meter. The object that I had been persuaded I would need later on and had accepted because I needed them to think I was coming back.

I wasn't sure whether to make this a seperate thread or add it to my story, seeing as it is part of my story, I chose to put it here.

I'm jumping ahead now to 2006 and will return back to the 60s with my Dad's story, or at least as much as I can piece together.

September 2006

Having not had any contact or anything whatsoever to do with Scientology for 38 years years apart from a brief, 1 month visit from my Dad in late Sept 1976 - late Oct 1976, I was out one day shopping with my family and for the first time in all those years found myself facing scientologists out in front of what I now know to be the Brighton org using e - meters on the side walk. I was caught off guard and internally I felt like I was about to explode. I didn't explode, I imploded. My family could tell something was very wrong with me and it was decided to get me up to the station and home immediately. I had wanted to scream and shout at the scientologists for ruining my childhood, but just like all those years ago as a young girl, I stayed silent. Internally I felt like I was going to combust.

That was the start of things going way beyond my control, pandoras box had been opened and there was no putting the lid back on.

I started to have flash backs to my childhood, things that I had put a lid on, don't go there, this hurts too much and over the years anytime a thought about this period in my life raised it's ugly head, I put a lid on it. I became something of a workaholic, that way there was no time for these memories to intrude in my life.

Suddenly, I found my every waking thought being taken over by my childhood in which I had been a scientology child and later joining the sea org. I couldn't stop it from being in my head. Not only was it affecting my waking moments but also in my dreams, whilst sleeping, I was back on the Apollo. I kept thinking of my Dad. On a couple of occasions I had thought about trying to find him before any of this happened and had discussed it with my husband, who had always thought it would be a bad idea. I started to tell my husband about my childhood, I had tried to tell him before when we first got together, but he had insisted the past should stay there in the past. If it hadn't been for this chance encounter in Brighton, that is where it would have stayed.

I had always thought the internet was a complete time waster and being a very active sort of person, never took any interest. But my husband could see I needed some answers and suggested I look on the internet.

I googled Scientology and my head spun. I had absolutely no idea there was so much information out there. Once on the internet, there was no getting off. I spent days pouring over anything and everything I could find. I found XSO and joined, found an old friend on there and started posting. I played down many of my problems, it felt safer. I wanted to know what had happened to my Dad. I wanted to know but was terrified at the same time. You didn't mess with scientologists, especially in the sea org. I asked questions about Power Processing. I wrote a post about doing the Trs as a child and how I had not liked it. In fact it scared me. I spoke about how I got my 'wins' in life. Gardening and birds and the like. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and all the while the flashbacks and dreams got worse. I got more and more anxious and frightened, I started loosing weight, I couldn't eat.

I had gone under a psuedonym on the message board and one day my full real name appeared on the board. I had not put it there.I told the person whos message board it was that "all was not as it seemed"He asked me to explain, however I was so freaked out at the time and my husband insisted I did not go on there again and removed my account, e-mail address and I promised to never go on there again. However, although I never went back to XSO, I did read ESMB and OCMB and spent hours pouring over Lermanet.com and various other Scientology related boards including those of the dreaded Scientology "church" itself. I needed answers.

I thought I had caught a cold at first, then progressively I got worse and worse. I had developed an allergy. I was under so much stress. I had been in touch with my Dad after all these years and answers were not forth coming. In early December I recieved a Christmas card that was really weird. It said 'wishing you a very merry chrisTman.' I was confused and at first thought it was a spelling mistake. But I knew it was not. I had a week off at christmas and thought with the time off I would start to feel better. I did a tiny little bit.

I can't remember if it was before Christmas or after but it was during the time talking about birds on XSO, one night late, someone was outside my bedroom window making bird noises. When they had obviously had their fun, whoever it was started laughing. Then a car shot off into the night. My husband was asleep, he never heard it. I was having a really hard time getting to sleep at the time, and quite often I didn't want to go to sleep as the dreams were really bad. I would wake up really frightened. On the night with the bird calls, I couldn't sleep at all. I was so frightened. When I told my husband he said if it happened again to wake him. I didn't see the point, I could see he didn't believe me.

After Christmas, i went back to work and that is when I discovered I had a really bad allergy to cats. This surprised me, as I had had a cat for many years.During that period I had developed ME, in fact during the ME, I developed just about every allergy under the sun. Things got so bad, it was thought I had ME again. But this was different.

On the internet, I was plagued by weird stuff. Even I thought I must be imagining it at first, but there were too many coincidences. Far too many. It had never occurred to me that someone might go through my rubbish. What the hell would they do that for? I can't remember exactly where it was, but there were personal notes written by me to my daughter on her christmas gifts. The trouble was none of it was direct. It was interspersed between other stuff written in posts. I kept imagining I was seeing things. My illness got worse and worse, and the dreams kept coming.

One day it was so bad, the stuff on the internet, it scared me so much because it was conversations I had had within the confines of my own home, I hadn't left the house. How could this be. I knew in my heart if I told my husband he would surely think I was a total nut.When I finally did tell him, he did think I was a nut. This sounds crazy, I know, but I made him go in the bathroom and turned both bath taps on full and then whispered my fears to him. His reaction was I was having a mental breakdown. There were times when I believed he might be right.

For a good couple of months I never left the house unless it was to go the doctors,I can only decribe this phase as being like a zombie, I was in a permanent state of shock. I continued to read everything and anything I could on the internet.

Then things got weirder. I finally knew if I continued on not eating and withering away, I would probaly become anorexic, I had lost so much weight, all my muscle tone had gone, I had to start trying to get better. I made myself leave the house and go for walks. The house names of places in my area started appearing on the internet.This was interspersed in amongst posts. There was no solid wall of text directed directly at me. But I knew it was for me. The posters names kept changing. I walked across the fields to somewhere I felt safe. I went there regularly. One day I arrived at my destination and there was a coffin layed out in sawdust.You have no idea how scary this was.

I could tell no one because when I tried I got pitiful looks, as if to say, she's really lost the plot now. Each day I would make myself walk further, I would not be beaten. It was so strange. Each time I left the house it's like I knew where I was going because it had already been mapped out for me via the internet. There were always names of things, house names. Even as I relay it now, I still find it hard to fathom.

Clothes were decribed, one day in late spring my daughter was marching around in these high heels in a bikini. The whole thing was decribed in a post. It's hard to remember everything as it was every single day. As Iv'e said before coincidences of that magnitude just don't happen all by themselves.This was when I thought it had to be a neighbor. Because I knew I wasn't imagining it, I tried a few tests. I wrote on my computer in word when not on the internet and sure enough answers popped up to things I had written. I filled an entire screen of several pages with the word CULT. I got a real back lash of "leave us alone and we'll leave you alone". I thought "NO", I will not leave this alone. I wrote notes on paper in the house and left them on a chair, to see if my suspicians were correct. To my horror they were. Not only could this would be attacker hear me, they could see me too. I started to be suspicious of all my neighbors, who would do this? I knew there was only one set of people that I had ever had any weird stuff happen in my life before and it was when I was with the organization Scientology.

I started trying to get well again when I realised what was happening.It occurred to me that someone was trying to drive me out of my mind and they were doing a damned good job of it.That's when I knew I had to stop it affecting me. It was a long slow, hard process. It still leaves its mark today.

The first visible signs of strange stuff going on outside of my life at home, was when I was well enough to start work again. I was still far from being alright but things were better. I was working in a nursing home doing night shifts and aside from the daily goings on in my personal life being on the internet, I got a phone call supposedly from the Police. They wanted me to go and check if I had a resident missing, because they had found one, they knew the exact name and described the person in detail. I had only just done a recent check on the residents and the person in question had been there, but I went again and had a look. Sure enough the person was fast asleep in bed. I assured the woman all my reidents were accounted for. Later they phoned again. They were quite insistant that they had my resident. I can't remember the full conversation, but they wanted details and I said "I am not at liberty to give out personal details,how do I know you are the police?", the woman laughed and said "Of course I am". Click, the line went dead.

I spoke to my boss about it and logged it in the log book.She said in all the years there, some 20 to my recollection, they had never had anything like that happen.I had already explained to people at work about Scientology and told them about some of the dirty tricks they have been known to get up to.They were in full support of me and made sure I got Saturdays off to go protesting once a month. This happened after I started going to protests.

At one of the protests in London I spoke on the mega phone, the anons surrounded me and being short I was not obviously visible, the scientologists sorted that one out by having a person in an upstairs window video me from above. At various protest in London, Brighton and Hastings I was videoed. In London a girl followed me when I broke away from the rest of the anons and handed out fliers further up Totenham Court Road. I was on my own, as we had been penned in to such an extent that it was difficult to hand out fliers and talk to the public. There was a policeman standing a few feet away from me, on the road. This girl was the same one I had seen sitting with an OSA man earlier on when I had been giving someone an interview.She pretended to be talking on the phone, but was holding the phone at a very odd angle, it was then I realised she was taking pictures, or videoing me.Anytime anyone came past me she moved around trying to stop me from handing out fliers. That same day, just before she appeared a man had approached me and asked me what I was protesting about, told me I was talking rubbish and whacked me on the shoulder, not hard, but pointing me out. Thats when the girl appeared.

After the May protest in London of 2008, dated the 6/6/2008 my Dad recieved a letter from the Church of Scientology London, 146 Queen Victoria Street. The letter read:

Dear Mr. Stainforth,

I am writing to you so that our mailing list can be updated. I would like to know if you were the same person who lived 47 Banks Avenue in the 60's and who recieved some services from our organization in London at that time.

Could you please verify this one way or the other.If you are the same person it would also be appreciated if you could send us your current telephone number and email address.

Yours Sincerely

Danny Grafton

Strange goings on. I start attending protests, and after 39 years of my Dad having nothing to do with Scientology, having moved home several times between 1969 and 2008 and yet all of a sudden they want to have my Dad's phone number, and confimation one way or the other.Alright it might not be that difficult information to obtain, but why would they,yet another something after I start protesting. The letter is a bit of a mess, as my Dad was so disgusted when he opened it, he ripped it up and threw it away. When he told me about it, I told him "go and retrieve it from the bin and send me the pieces including the envelope."Which he did.

I carried on protesting monthly, one month I attended three protests, but with my job it was starting to take its toll. The protests gave me a sence of purpose and it was interesting to note that there were all kinds of people from all walks of life that didn't protest but were so glad someone was, they all had heart breaking stories to tell.. At a Brighton protest, I met and talked to an exscientologist, it was interesting that this person had been through similar things to myself. I was constantly aware of people arround me. Who was the foe? There were a couple of people I was suspicious of, one man in particular kept appearing. What was worse, I was sure I had seen him in London also.

In London, after a protest, I had arrived at the station and had missed my train. I sat on a bench, this business type man sat next to me, nothing odd about that you may think. After about half an hour, this woman started walking towards the man sitting next to me, smiling. He vacated the seat and she sat down. No words were exchanged. It was bizarre. I got up and moved on. Willing my train to arrive.

Quite a few of the anons I knew started telling me they had cease and desist letters from the church of scientology, I didn't know what these were at the time.Someone somewhere was following these anons home and getting their details, consequently much like the letter my Dad got, no actual accusations but telling them in no uncertain terms that we know who you are, we know where you live and we know all about you. Intimidation.

At the first protest in Hastings my friend and I were a little dubious of protesting as we were the only ones to turn up. We sat and sussed the situation out from a bar opposite the Dianetics Center. In the archway were a group of men who looked like they were waiting for something. When we finally decided to do a picket. My friend donned his mask, I got my sign out and we were surrounde by the men, wanting to know what we were doing there. Were we terrorists. The day before the scientologists had gone round all the local businesses and told them terrorists were coming the following day. The Scientologists had handed out leaflets about anonymous and also videos.We explained why we were protesting and gave them our on line info. They went off for about an hour and came back and told us they were glad we were there. That day proved to be a really good protest.

After another protest in Hastings, my good friend, an anon got one of these cease and desist letters. Full name, address etc.He has since been called by his first name at a protest in Brighton, by one of the scientologists.I have never called him by his first name, even though he did tell me once.At the last protest we attended he didn't wear his mask, as they know who he is.At the protest in Hastings we were videoed from the upstairs window.When I went to see my friend off at the station, there was a suspicious looking character waiting just outside. He seemed very interested in us. When I left the station, he was watching my every move.This guy was mid to late 20s, smartly dressed and wearing dark sun glasses. That day it had rained non stop.

My daughter got some scientology leaflets through her door. I asked her to try and find out if they were delivered to every door or just hers. She didn't want to do that, at the time she was living very near Narconon, in St. Leonards on sea.A few weeks later she got another leaflet through her door. This was different to the previous one. This was a free personality test. It gave an address in Bexhill. When I had the time, I went to Bexhill to find this place called "The Lookout". I went to an estate agents in the end to see if they had heard of it. The man in there directed me to the old part of Bexhill. I spent hours traipsing round trying to find this address.I asked loads of people, including the local pub and shop. These people I spoke to had lived there for years, some all their life and none knew of the address I gave.The lady in the shop was even kind enough to let me use one of her maps. There was no such address. I was determined to go back and have another look, but unfortunately I have not had the time since.

When you consider, my family had absolutely no idea about what scientology is or was until late 2006. It is a strange coincidence that suddenly they start recieving fliers through their door.Again, after I start protesting.

At one point during this time period, it became apparent to me that someone, somewhere seemed to know the contents of my text messages on my phone. I kept thinking I must be imagining it, but I knew I was not.

I was at a party at a friends house one night, and someone asked me if I had bluetooth switched on, my daughter had put it on and me being technology illiterate didn't know how to get rid of it. He suggested I got rid of it straight away as he had just picked up my text messages on his laptop. This was a big shock to me, yet in someway a comfort. I was right, I was not imagining it. For some time I stopped texting until I could replace my phone.That still didn't make an auful lot of difference though as I was sure someone could hear my home line calls, I was sure someone could hear me even when not on the phone. I was sure someone could hear me at work. You start to think someone can actually read your mind.There are times when you think you are going insane.

Slowly over time, you get used to it. It becomes a normal way of life because you feel there is nothing you can do about it. There is never any real, actual proof. You find yourself, thinking "Who can you trust?" You go back to that place that was the start of all this, when a little girl and in fear of one's life and you realise, the people you can't trust are scientologists.You become afraid for friends, family anyone who has any contact with you. So the obvious answer is to cut yourself off, this makes for a lonely life, but if it keeps the ones you love safe, then its' for the best.

My daughter and I frequent a certain coffee shop, one time sitting in the place, I noticed a woman sitting by herself quietly in the corner, listening in to our conversation. She looked like one of the women that had videoed me from the window of the Hastings Dianetic center.

Whilst walking in the place where I live, I was asked for an address by a delivery man. I hadn't heard of it and directed them to the local post office.I was headed there also and when I arrived this same man said I looked familiar.He asked if I had lived in this area most of my life. I had said "yes" and he asked my name.I gave him my married name and he got right in my face and said, "that's not your maiden name though, is it?". I thought this was an odd responce from a total stranger.

Last summer, shortly after my birthday, I went out for the day with a friend. She had bought me a present. A green jade necklace.I put it on before we went out. We went to Rye for the day. We had a really great time, shopping and went into a shop where we tried a load of clothes on. There was only one changing room, so to save time we went in together. We tried a lot of clothes on. Later that day when I got home, I went on the internet and after following a few links, there I was, not me but someone else wearing the exact same clothing I had on that day. You may think how can that be? Well for starters this is not the first time this has happened. Someone, when I recounted this to them said " well it could have been anyone , I've only ever seen you in jeans". He was right I wear jeans a lot. But on that day, I wasn't. It was a new, totally different outfit. Also, I had not owned a jade green necklace until that day.There was also a post, recounting an experience of two women in a changing room together.

That day I saw red. I was sick of this. We know who you are, we know where you live, we know what you do, we know what you say, we know every god damned thing about you.So I wrote the post on ESMB 'What I was wearing today'.

There are times when I have been driven half crazy with this stuff. For a long, long time it really got to me, it made me really ill, constantly in fight or flight mode. The human mind can only take so much. I have come back from the brink. I don't look anymore to see if anyones watching me, if they have nothing better to do, then that is their problem. I didn't ask for this. If the "church of scientology" didn't do the kind of things that they do then none of us would be here.

I'm going to try and put images of the letter and card and leaflets up. Iv'e never managed successfully to do this, so be patient as it might not be successful.

I wrote some other stuff and I have lost it. Just thoughts and feelings but they are real, they are what this is all about. Never mind. I will continue any way. If people want to think I am crazy, let them, I know different and thats all that matters.

So ,I'm home from the sea org and after the reunion with my step mother, late at night, the following morning it's off to St. Hill for my step mother and I am left at home on my own. I listened to Radio 1, I lounged around doing nothing, it was an amazing experience. I could not remember the last time I had had that freedom. I was 12 years old, thats all and yet I suddenly found I had freedom. It may seem like nothing, but to me at that time is was euphoria.For a very short period I did not have to look up to anyone, especially someone I loathed.

I very soon became bored with sitting doing nothing, with only the radio for company and took to making flapjack, I found a cook book and made flapjack, I became addicted to flapjack. I made it every day, and ate all of it. It made me feel good. I could cook something and eat it and I didn't have to think about L. Ron Hubbard or his bloody cruise of hell or anything remotely scientology. It was wonderful.

I phoned my longtime friend, whom had never had anything to do with scientology in the hope that we could meet up, I needed something totally unrelated to scientology.

I so badly needed another life.

On my first day back from the sea org, when my step mother returned from St. Hill, she cooked us bangers and mash. While we ate our meal we talked about a lot of stuff, just general chit chat, very little was mentioned about the sea org, it was as if it was a strictly taboo subject, which of course it was.

She realised I didn't own a dressing gown and as it was starting to get cold in England she said she would make me one. She bought some of that blue fluffy material and made us both kaftan style dressing gowns. I liked kaftans and had left mine behind on the ship.

When she wasn't at St. Hill, she used to work in a pub some evenings and when she came home her feet would hurt, from rushing about in high heels. Sometimes we would sit and chat. I asked her how she had gotten into scientology. Funny thing really, because she used to take drugs, LSD, I believe and with a beaming smile told me when she found scientology she didn't take drugs anymore. It was all thanks to L. Ron Hubbard and scientology.She seemed so happy about it. This seemed so very strange to me, I could not quantify what she had just said and what I knew about L. Ron Hubbard. I kept thinking about my friend Sylvie at Abellund and could not picture my step mother in the same way.

She decided I had to start paying my way, so found me a babysitting job in a huge mansion house just across the way from us. These were rich scientologists and had an enormous flat in the mansion. They had two little boys, who were little terrors and quite a handful.I wasn't very happy, but it was a respite from scientology, sort of.When the parents came home, they would rave about the lectures they had attended and I would let my mind go blank.Wasn't L. Ron Hubbard wonderful, I would feel sick in the pit of my stomach.

It was hard putting on this everything is just dandy face, when in reality it was not.On reflection looking back, and what I do find funny today, is I was an SP in Hubbards own terms, right there amongst all the happy smiling scientologists and none of them realised it.


No comments:

Post a Comment