Another day in Scientology land
Birgitta
I am posting this to ARS with the permission of Catarina
and am personally much grateful as "there was no DPF". It
is free to web for those critics who may want.
Catarina is now living a normal life and is doing studies for becoming
a medical doctor.
Thank's Catarina!
/Bid
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"Another day in Scientology-land"
When the friendly, confident young man insisted that I should at least
try out one of their courses, it all seemed so reasonable. Yes, I'd
heard something about scientology being a cult, but I'd been around
some pretty weird people before, and it never did hurt me one bit.
This guy looked normal enough,and it didn't seem fair to knock a
subject without giving it a chance. It wasn't as if he was asking me
to sell my soul, was it?
Yet, little by little, without really noticing the transformation, I
allowed scientology to control my actions, words and even my thoughts,
in exchange for a wealth of empty promises.
Even though the first couple of courses didn't impress me all that
much, I was getting caught up in the atmosphere of expectance and
urgency. These scientologists seemed so sure that they were on the
right track. If I didn't show up for course, they would phone and
write - all that attention was flattering. There were fantastic
stories about what other people had achieved with scientology methods.
Doing some communication drills (TRs) did make me feel more confident.
There was a program which was supposed to clean the body of stored
toxins (the Purification Rundown). While doing it, I experienced
various phenomena, which were explained as "accumulated radiation and
illness leaving the body". (How can radiation accumulate? Wasn't it
rather the combined side-effects of megadoses of vitamines, and 3-5
hours daily in a sauna? But at the time, I didn't think that far.)
Then I got some auditing, and "remembered" a past life - wow!
Sometimes I would encounter things that didn't make sense, and doubted
the whole scientology thing, but I was always convinced to keep going.
"Get more auditing, study more, contribute more, work harder;
eventually you'll understand!" I was learning the secrets of the
universe, yet my life was going down the drain.
By 1983, two years after reading my first Hubbard book, I had gone
from a reasonably well-ordered life to a complete mess. I had quit my
office job, and worked in the local scientology organisation in
Stockholm, Sweden. My money was all gone, I had nowhere to live,
didn't eat or sleep much, had practically no contact anymore with my
family and former friends, and was becoming increasingly depressed and
unstable. So why didn't I just quit? By then, I had begun to accept
the view that if any scientology methods didn't work out very well for
me, it was due to my own shortcomings. The worse it got, the more I
thought I had to stick to scientology. Hubbard stated, over and over,
that scientology was the only way out, and only evil-minded people
opposed it. The world outside was controlled by crazy psychiatrists,
greedy bankers and corrupt governments. Paranoia? Oh no, just another
day in Scientology-land....
---
Here is a bit about my DPF experience.
In the early 1980s, scientology went through a period of upheaval, as
there was a struggle for power between various management groups. The
losing side, the Guardian's Office (GO), was dismounted, and in Europe
the GO personnel were ordered to the European head quarters (FOLO EU)
in Copenhagen, to do a "reform program" called the Deck Projects Force
(DPF).
This was in the beginning of 1983, and later that year also many
"regular" church staff from all over Europe were sent to do the
program. I was working in Stockholm, and around October my turn came,
along with many other people.
At the FOLO EU, I was ordered into a small room. Two women, dressed in
the navy style uniform of scientology management (the Sea
Organization), started to interrogate me, screaming at me to confess.
One of them, a quite young girl (CMO missionaire) had been visiting
Stockholm not long before, and we'd had a friendly chat while I showed
her how to use the telex machine. Now she wore a stone cold
expression. The situation seemed unreal.
Then I was taken to a crowded, dirty room in the basement, where
DPFers were supposed to sit for hours every day and write lists of
their "sins". Now and then another person was to check the lists, to
make sure there was enough detail. The rest of the time you had to
work; mostly cleaning, kitchen work, painting, etc. Some jobs were
especially unpleasant, such as
jumping inside the garbage containers, to make space for more. The
rules were strict: no talking to people outside the DPF, no phone
calls or letters without permission, always running instead of
walking, obeying all orders from the person in charge of the DPF.
Passports were to be handed over, to make it harder for people to
escape. We were to watch each other, and report anyone breaking the
rules.
There were all kinds of people there. One day I worked together with a
lady who looked around 60. We had to clean windows with ice cold water
and some old newspapers. There were even pregnant women. We slept (for
a few hours per night) in various crowded rooms in the old hotel, the
Nordland, where the FOLO staff lived, and ate in the hotel basement.
There was usually some food - spaghetti, rice, sometimes even eggs -
but you had to be quick to get some.
Despite the dreadful physical conditions, the worst part was the
humiliation; we were basically treated like criminals. When I got
there, I was in a pretty bad shape mentally, and the situation only
got worse. It's hard to describe, but I seriously thought I was going
to die. My body felt like a strange object, and sometimes I couldn't
even move or speak. People were trying to get me out of it by forcing
me to walk or run around and look at things in the environment. It
didn't help, but that's what Hubbard said to do with confused persons.
One night I was told that I was going to be thrown out of scientology
(SP declared); something that happened to several people on the DPF.
It would mean getting out of that basement, but I just couldn't
imagine life outside anymore. All I knew was that my eternal future
was lost. When they told me the next day that I could stay, I was
immensely grateful.
While running to work one day, I had a strange experience of all
feeling suddenly shutting off. The piercing cold from snow melting in
my thin shoes, the hunger, the fatigue, the physical and mental pain -
everything went away. Nothing at all was important anymore. I could
move like a robot.
Now and then, somebody would try to leave. I and another Swedish woman
were sent to the railway station one day, to intercept a man from
Stockholm who was missing. We found him, but could not convince him to
return. He said he didn't believe in the OT3 story, and refused to
stay. For a moment, I felt sympathy for him, and wanted to get on that
train, too. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside; he was wrong
and we were
right, and I had to believe that.
By January '84, I was a "reformed" scientologist, and went back to
Stockholm. For years afterwards, I existed in a strangely numb state,
with occasional emotional outbursts. My self-esteem was mostly gone,
and I let other people run my life.
More than ten years passed, before I started to seriously question
scientology. It's not comfortable to critically examine your dearest
beliefs, but there might be a high price to pay if you don't. Look at
the people in scientology's secret service (OSA) - did they really
dream of spending their life spying on and harassing people? Did the
registrars join scientology because they liked squeezing the last bit
of money out of others? Those scientologists who watched Lisa
McPherson were most probably just trying to help her, but now she's
dead! When you follow the path of blind belief, there's a risk you
will end up doing things which are very much contrary to whatever good
intentions you started out with.
I'm not saying that there aren't people who are happy with
scientology, and who find it useful, but I experienced things which
were far removed from the glossy image presented in the organization's
promotional pieces, and there are others who have suffered much worse
than I did. Anybody who wants to get involved in scientology should be
warned that the organization will not tell you the whole story....
Catarina Sandstroem Pamnell
***
The Angel of Xenu