Never again, sex for alcohol, lesbianism, kitten torture etc

My Story as I begin to put it all together:
These are my memories of growing up in scientology as told through the eyes of a child. Born into a church family and raised in the Church of Scientology. Mom was taking classes at a city college when she was invited to hear a speaker about Dianetics and she met my Dad who was a college graduate and they began dating. They immediately became involved with the Church in the late sixties in Los Angeles.

I was born in the kitchen of our small aprtment in Dec 1970 with a doctor attending and a nurse who stayed overnight to help my mom the first day after I was born. I spent my first few years in playpens at the org and toddling around among lots of happy young adults.

I got a lot of love and attention at the org and was able to be with my parents while they were on post. My Mother had a full time job as a preschool teacher at Pumpkin School on Kenmore avenue in LA and she voluntered at the church in her spare time. However traumatic and topsy turvy my life became, I know my parents were young adults eager to make the world a peaceful place. They had good intentions and truly wanted to be a part of a group who�s mission was to "save" the planet. They dedicated their lives to the church. My Dad was a full-time staff members at the los angeles org in the late 60�s and early 70�s.

Dad worked long hours on staff for very little money. I remember they talked about how important the church mission was and how they were helping �clear the planet�. My Father drove a taxi cab in his off hours to earn extra money for food. We shared a small 2 bedroom apartment in LA with two other church members. At about 3yrs old I was molested in the bathtub by a scientologist guy who lived with my family as a roommate. He was my Dad�s best friend (later He became my stepdad)

One of my vague memories as a very young toddler, is being in the basement of the org with my Father while he was on post in a large file room. I think it was called �addresso�or Central files. The Org was not the large collective of buildings as it is now, but somewhere else in Los Angeles.

1975 I was 4 years old Mom was pregnant and they were preparing me for a younger sibling. Late one night she was rushed to the hospital in labor pains, but the baby died during labor. I thought we were gonna have a baby, but they came home without one. Mom stayed in the hospital a couple days and I am not sure what they told me, but I began to think that hospitals stole or killed babies.

Besides, I listened to adults talk about wog world and I had some notion that outsiders (non-church people were evil). Apple school a private Scientology school My mom enrolled me in kindergarten at Apple School a private Scientologist run school up on a hilltop in Los Feliz. The shuttle bus would pick me up and drop me off at home or sometimes at the LA org where my parents were on staff. In 1976 I was 5 years old and still attending Apple school.

One morning when I was five and was walking to the corner to wait for the School Bus by myself, a man drove up into a driveway blocking my path, opened the door and told me to get in and he would take me to school. Not knowing it was a dangerous situation, I got into his car. I vaguely remember being worried that I might be late to class. I also told him I did not know the way to school. He said we could go have fun in the park and that my Mom said it was okay. We drove to the park and he molested me. Then he bought me a popsicle and left me in the park. I�m not sure what happened but I remember trying to walk to school by myself. I began walking but got scared I might not find my school. I knew the way home from the park, so I walked the few blocks back to our apartment building and played in the yard until my Mom came home that evening. No one ever asked why I wasn�t at school that day and I never told anyone what happened.

In early summer of 1976, My Mom was pregnant again. This time she was being careful and going to the doctor regularly and she did not work as many hours as before. While Mom was pregnant I spent a lot of time with my Grandparents. That time with my grandparents, was about the happiest time in my life. Soon to be shattered. In late summer of 1976 (I was 5 3/4) My father discovered that he had advanced stage colon cancer. My Mom tells me that he was �routed off staff immediately� and that someone in church management ordered my Dad�s auditor not to continue processing my Dad, and my Dad was denied any further church counseling, courses or services of any kind. (I know now that they were worried about a law suit from family memebers not in the church if my Dad died while in church custody.)

We moved in with my grandparents and Dad was in and out of hospitals and hospice care until he died in early April 1977. I was 6 years old when Mom gave birth in February to my little sister in the guest bedroom at her parent�s house, with the same attending doctor and nurse who had helped birth me.

Mom later told me she prefered giving birth in a home environment because it was less traumatic than a hopsital. For some unknown reason she believed traumatic births were harmful to a baby. My Dad was able to attend the birth sitting in a wheelchair across the room from my mother. He left the hospice care center in order to be with my Mom on that day. I remember my Father as a romantic kind man who always had a smile for everyone. Mom says He sent someone to buy a yellow rose and he gave it to her immediatley after my sister was born.

From the time my Dad was first diagnosed with cancer it was too late for any treatment. He rapidly became very ill and was in and out of hospitals. Before he died my Dad promised me he would get better and come home. I was very much Daddy�s little girl. I loved my Mom, but I was attached to my Dad with a fierce love and loyalty and I wanted him to get all better and come home.
There is a side story about my visit to see Dad very soon before his death, {all these years later and I still cry when I think about it., I am crying now}My Hospital story visiting my Dad before his death.
I will write it another time.

We were living with my Dad�s parents during the time he was sick. I have another story about the memorial service and my Godfather. And also about the number of stuffed easter bunnies I received on the day of his funeral. He died at the age of 34. (He had previously had two heart attacks before his cancer)

Almost immediately after my Dad/Father died my Mother joined the sea org. My infant sister was a few months old and I was 6 1/2 . Suddenly we were thrust into the Child Cadet Org in early summer of 1977. My sister and I were placed in the Cadet Org on Melrose.

My sister was on another floor where they had a baby nursery and I was not allowed in there. I stayed in a room with several other girls about my age on a different floor from the upstairs nursery. Later we were moved to the building on Fountain avenune across from the complex. I vaguely remember walking with my Mom to a park, on the days when she was allowed to come for "family time".

Oh, what bullshit that was, "Family Time" was scheduled as one hour a day at dinner time for my Mom to come over and visit us!! But only if my Mom�s stats were up and her org stats were up. What a backwards system they created. My mother came to see us, but it was inconsistent. I never knew if she was coming or not.

Mom lived in an adult dorm style building with lots of bunk beds.
Once in a while mom would sneak me into her room at night and we slept together on the bottom bunk. As far as I know the other female SO members never complained.

I remember living in the children�s berthing in at least two different buildings in LA, I believe one building was on Melrose, but I do not know the address. The other building we moved to was the Fountain building on Fountain avenue across from what used to be the cedars hospital complex, now Pacific Area Command, housing several church organizations.

My baby sister was in a crowded nursery in a small crib, and I was in a dorm like room with about 5 other girls around my age. I was 6 1/2 years old. I was not allowed to see my baby sister who was just about 6 months old. However, often I would sneak up to the nursery room and visit her, but I was not allowed to hold her. She began to get very sick and would not drink her bottles much, would barely respond to people and had the runs badly and would cry nearly all the time. (years later I learned that she was suffering from a condition known as failure to thrive, which often happens to small babies and children in 3rd world country orphanages)

My Mom lived in a building across town for Sea Org staff members. Only one of my Uncles, my Dad's brother was a scientologist at the time, but he and my Mom were not close. None of my other family members were scientologists, so I had no contact with any of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc� during this time.

I cried a lot, missing my Mom, missing my grandparents, and my Dad (who had recently died) Mostly I cried when nobody could see me. As a small child I learned to be on guard and keep my emotions hidden as much as possible. No one seemed to know why my Mom stopped coming to see me for our daily family time.

I asked over and over again and no one would tell me where she was or what was happening. My Nanny did not know my Mother was in the hospital. I became more and more depressed and began retreating into my own world and stop trusting anyone else. Days went by and still no one was telling me anything about my Mom. The head Nanny tried to tell me my Mom must have been very busy, and she acted as if everything would be okay, but I sensed her underlying nervous tension.

Finally, after more than eight days I decided to take matters into my own hands and go find my Mom all by myself. My reasoning seemed logical, after all I was nearly 7 years old and I knew how to ride the bus and how to get to the adult berthing.

I figured if Mom was too busy to come see me and since most of the Nannies and kids all left to go out on family time, I would go and find my Mom on family time. The next day at family time I began to walk to the bus stop where Mom and I had taken the bus a couple of times to her building. I arrived at my Mom�s building and went to look for her. Only a few adults were around and when I asked, none of them knew where my Mom was. I began to worry and got scared. Outside it was dark and I could not remember how to get back to my building.

I cried myself to sleep on the floor in a cleaning closet. The next day I set out to find my way back to the children�s berthing. When I arrived I was punished for having been gone overnight without parent permission.

The Nanny in charge still could not tell me what happened to my Mom, so I decided to ask another scientologist parent for help. I began asking to go with other families on their family time and they agreed. I would always ask if they knew my Mom and where she might be. None of them knew anything, but they always told me that she must be busy on an important mission. I began to think I would have to raise my baby sister alone, but I also knew I would need money to care for her. I remembered a very nice scientology lady who had been was friends with my Mom, and I thought she might be able to help me.

Another day I walked to the bus stop again and tried to remember which bus to take to get to a lady scientologist�s house who knew my Mom. The bus driver helped me but he asked why I was alone. I made up a story that my Mom was waiting for me at the end of the bus stop. I got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the lady�s house. It was twilight when I saw her house and garden. I raced at top speed and began knocking loudly on the door, gasping for breath. I nearly fell over as she opened the door. As I told her why I was there, I began sobbing and missing my Mom and my family. She helped me locate another scientology family friend, as it turned out he had been looking for me.

Someday I will write mys story about being sneaked into Hospital by Stan to see my Mom.
Towards the end of her illness, I was finally told about her illness by a family friend who was a scientologist, but not on staff. He came to the Cadet Org building and told me my Mom was very ill and was in the hospital. (my Dad had just died a few months before this, and he died in a hospital.) I did not understand why I could not go see my Mom. I have since been told that the doctors said she had Typhoid Fever.
Very contagious. My Mom contracted the illness while working on the early renovations of the cedar hall building, including crawling through tunnels on her belly to clean air ducts. She had severe weight loss, high fevers, dehydration, patchy clumps of hair loss, and overall weakness. Her weakness and hair loss continued for a few months after she was released from the hospital and routed out of the SeaOrg.

Mom was routed out of the SeaOrg quickly after she was released from the hospital. There is another side story about my Mom lying on the floor in the sea org berthing with a very high fever and no one was taking care of her. My Mom told me the full story of her illness when I was a teenager. She talked about her memories of the hospital and how scared she was. The doctors told her she most likely would have died within a few more hours if she had not been taken to the hospital.
Shortly after I found out about my mother�s illness, I was so sad and depressed and I thought my Mom was going to die in a hospital just like my Father did. I tried to commit suicide (for the first but not the last time in my life). Somehow got up on the rooftop of my berthing building(on Melrose) and sat down with my legs over the side of the building watching the cars zoom by and preparing to jump off. I vaguely remember a couple of older girls saw me. They came up to the rooftop with one of the nanny ladies and started fighting with me and trying to pull me away from the edge. After this incident I was assigned extra chores like washing windows, mopping floors and cleaning the hall bathroom because I was out ethics for being suicidal. The extra chores seemed to last for weeks, but the details are fuzzy. Heck I was 6 � and had no idea what the hell was happening.

We also had drills where we were required to hide under beds and inside locked closets because wogs who did not understand our church goals would come inspect our building. I remember practicing hiding and the SO nannys would sometimes make it a game. However, we were also told that if we were found during one of the real wog (wog is a term used for anyone not a member of the church) inspections, the government people would take us away and we would never see our friends, our parents, the church, nor our families ever again. When the whistles were blown and we knew an inspection was coming, I remember being terrified with adrenaline rushing through my body. Everyone had to get to our assigned hiding post quickly. When it was all clear the whistles would be blown again twice in a row and I would breathe a huge sigh of relief.

I remember when we were all moved to the building on fountain near the complex. We began attending public school nearby and would walk in groups every day to and from school. Less than two years after joining the Sea Org, My Mom was routed out of the Sea Org due to medical bills resulting from her contracting a serious illness that required her to be hospitalized for about 2 weeks.

December 1978 I turned 8 years old and we moved in with my Mom�s close male friend Stan. (who later became my stepdad) Although Mom routed out of the sea org we stayed loyal Scientology members and she was on and off staff a few times at LA org and I was often running around at one of the orgs in the pac complex. My sister and I were raised in & around the LA Org complex, ASHO, etc... until I was 19.

Stan, my Mom, my Sister, and I all lived in a small upstairs apartment with fading blue carpet. This is when my Stepdad began his serious abuse. He would throw me across the room when he was angry, body slam me against the wall, punch me in the stomach or choke me until I began to cry. Sometimes we would play roughly and if I got hurt he would make it seem as if I was at fault for wanting to play rough.

Several times he gave me a concussion supposedly by accident while we were �playing�. My stepdad began physically and sexually abusing me when I was 3 (when he was my parents roommate, before he became my official stepdad.)

In spring 1979 I was 8 years old My Mom and Stepdad rented a house in Los Feliz and we moved in. The house was one block from Franklin Elementary school. My Grandparents promptly pressured them to enroll me in public school. Mom wanted me to attend Apple School again and Stan seemed to think homeschool might be good. However since the cost of Apple School was too much, because my stepdad was on staff at LA org and made almost no money and my Mom worked fulltime at a scienctology school, homeschool would require a lot of work.

Mom gave in and enrolled me in Public School in kindergarden. I was much too old for kindergarden, but I was so behind with studies, I needed the remedial work. However, to this day I consider myself very lucky that I attended the same public school all the way through sixth grade.

When I was about 9 years old I told my mom one time, some of the things he was doing to me. She told me I would make a great writer someday due to my overactive imagination. She flipped her lid when I mentioned the sexual abuse and told me I must have been misunderstanding. She told me to stop making things up and never to tell such awful lies to anyone. Since my Mom did�nt believe me I figured no one else would believe me either, so I never talked aobut it again.

I knew many other scientology kids who did not attend school on a regular basis for many different reasons and some went to church run schools where the education was awful and the kids hardly learned anything useful in the real world. Public school, was run by �wogs� and my parents would often tell me to ignore anything I did not like in shcool, because scientology would assist me to learn things much more important in life.

I went to school always believing that scientologists were better than anyone else, although I was taught to keep this idea to myself. During my years at public school I suffer a lot of humiliation from my stepdad. Many times, right before school began for the day, my stepdad would come to the playground and physically toss me over his shoulder and carry me away, in front of other children who were playing.
He would do this if I did not finish my chores at home to his satisfaction, or if he wanted to use me for his sexual pleasure. Good gosh it was so humiliating to be carried off in front of my playmates.

During the 4th and 5th grade, a few times my Stepdad would carry me down the block to school, while I was still in pajamas or a nightgown. He would take me upstairs to my classroom and put me down inside the classroom at the front of class. He did this if I had not gotten dressed in time for school because my chores took me too long and I was late for class. Onece again I was humiliated standing in front of my classmates in my nightgown.

I�m not sure what the school administration thought.

At home I learned about contact assists and touch assists and I was indoctrinated to these techniques from the time I was a small child so they became very routine. I assumed they worked because my parents taught me and I saw other church members doing them too.

While going to public school I was teased a lot because I wore mismatched clothes, I could not catch a ball, my hair was often dirty and I had poor hygene habits. I rarely brushed my teeth and I took a shower only about three times a week.

Many times I didn�t go to school at all. I would go for long walks in the los feliz hills or go to the public library to read. At elementary school I spaced out all the time and was really tired. I got sent to the nurses office alot with headache, stomach ache or just because I fell asleep in class.

None of this was ever investigated by the social services authority, so that reinforced the church teachings, that my life was normal.

At home I spent as much time as possible reading and trying to ignore everyone. In public school, teachers often took my books away during outdoor playground time to encourage me to socialize with the other children.

I was very depressed as a child, suffered from throbbing headaches and I truly thought the world would end any day. Later in my life I remembered that Ron Hubbard sent out information to all church members about the planetary nuclear war that was coming any day now.

I vaguely remember watching some sort of propaganda film about nuclear war and ordered to take more courses and auditing as soon as possible, in order to learn how to save the last remaining humans on earth after the war. I took all of this seriously and I even told kids at school to warn them.

I begged my Mom and Stepdad to let me go on course for more hours each day. I was so upset that I might not be ready when the planet was destroyed by war. Crazy crap for a child to have to worry about nuclear war, but that was all part of the church�s teachings and I believed them.

My parents took me out of school after the sixth 6th grade, so I never took a science class, world history, or math class, and never learned to multiply. My biggest salvation was my love for reading since I didn�t get much formal education.

My Stepdad believed that school was completely unimportant. Mom wanted me to be on course at the org.

Back in 1979 I was 8 years old. My Mom finally legalized her marriage to my stepdad, quit working at the scientlgy school and began watching several childern in our home. One day my Stepdad decided to quit working on staff at CofS LAday and stay home to help my Mom watch kids.

He realized that members of the church, needed dependable low cost childcare. So, our home became a full-time day and night childcare center where about 20 to 30 Scientlgy kids would be dropped off and picked-up at all hours of the day and night. Many went to bed at our house on mats spread out all over the living room floor each child with his/her own blanket and slept until their parents came to pick them up.

Thus began our In-Home 24/7 childcare center for scientologists.
Our house became known as �Carolyn and Stan�s� and later as the �Miller Childcare Center� At the time we lived in the los feliz area on Russell near commonwealth and franklin avenue. They cared for public church members� kids, staff members� kids and some Sea Org kids. We had anywhere from 18 - 35 kids and babies of all ages, all day long and some stayed late into the night.

Also there were generally a few kids who lived in our home for days or weeks at a time, especially if their parents went to Flag for services or if they were sent on an SO Mission somewhere. My home became a replica of the filthy, understaffed, cadet org that had been on Melrose avenue in the mid 1970�s where my sister and I had lived. Our home became absolutely filthy there was an awful stench.

We had about 7 cats most of the time. We always had too many children to properly give them each the attention they needed. Most of the time the youngest babies crawled around on the floor wearing only a diaper. Many of the kids were filthy dirty and I often had the chore of bathing multiple kids in single bathtub factory assembly line style. I also helped to change diapers. We had cockroaches, but we had lizards to help cut down on the cockroach problem. (lizards eat roaches) (imagine what we had later...both lizards and roaches )

My grandparents tell me the house always smelled and was dirty. Once a Mother complained that she was able to walk into the yard and no one was there watching the kids outside.

We did have a good garden and lots of plants.

The following are various illnesses and injuries I remember from childhood. My Stepdad was a typical Scientologist parent who didn�t believe in doctors. No childhood vaccines, no regular checkups, no dentist visits. Only if it was a real emergency, then we saw scientologist doctors.
I had multiple severe earaches and infections, most of which were untreated. Once I began crying in the middle of the night, my Mom begged my stepdad to take me to the doctor the next day. By the time we went to the scientology clinic my left eardum had burst and I had blood and pus oozing out of my ear. (slight permanent hearing loss) Strep-throat many, many times, Bladder infections, Tonsilitis so many times, that at 22 years old they finally removed my tonsils.

Shoulder injury, dislocated left shoulder playing with my step-dad, Broken collar bone in first grade at 8yrs old because my stepdad threw me into a fire hydrant.

Lung disease coughing up blood about 13 years old Broken left forearm after plyaing with my stepdad. Bruises all over. Scientology clinic set my arm in a cast. Ulcers and Asthma diagnosed during 4th grade at public school, I was examined by a doctor at the school nurses office because I complained of upset stomach a lot and missed many days of school and could not run on the playground like the other kids without losing my breath and saying my chest hurt.

Extreme flu and appendicitis A friend of my Mom took me to the hospital one time because I had very high fever and kept throwing up and could not stand up on my own. I was very weak and had severe pain in my abdomen. The hospital said my appendix had burst and I stayed in children�s hospital for about a week.

After my week in the hospital, I soon returned to my course at ASHO. The course supervisor routed me to ethics. The ethics officer said I was PTS and needed to write up my bad overt actions and my withhold actions. When I could not think of anything to write, they began to interrogate me about my non-church family. I was ordered to write letters and disconnect from my �antagonistic grandparents�. I didn�t want to write the letters, but I wrote fake ones so I could get out of ethics. I took the letters home and tore them up. I could not imagine a world without my grandparents. They were the only people who were nice to me.

My stepdad was bizzare because sometimes he acted like my friend and other times he yelled, hit me, and beat me up. It was so strange. I never talked about it to anyone outside the church, because I knew that it was wrong to take matters outside the church.

I knew that we had our own justice system and so I wrote him up and gave my report to the ethics officer. However nothing was ever done about it, that I knew of. After that I tried a ocuple of times to tell public church members and they did not believe me, just like my mom said.

However I got in trouble for �creating enturbulation on church lines�. Ethics officers and other scientology memebers treated me like I was at fault since I was playing rough with my stepdad. Sometimes they would tell me not to make up lies.

So I learned finally to shut-up and not tell anyone. Also, my stepdad told me over and over that no one would believe me. He boasted about being an outstanding scientologist and being given commendations for the serivces he provided to other church members.

My Stepdad also said if I ever told anyone outside the church he would find me and kill me and bury my body parts on the back hill behind our house. I believed him. He was so psychotic at times that I think he meant it.

We moved to 1044 N. Myra, just off Santa Monica Blvd not far from Sunset Avenue. We moved all home childcare operations to this house. We still had cockroaches and lizards and sometimes the cockroaches would craw over my face at night. It was a miserable time for me. We had a large dirt yard, a cement play area, a wood raised platform play area, and a fully cement sand box. Our house was always full of people. As you can imagine it was quite a hectic household.

During these years, I was always in charge of watching several children. I remember being responsible for several infants at a time. I used to rub diluted clove oil on the teeth and gums of the babies who were teething. I would try to soothe them by singing and hold them on my lap in a rocker chair for a few minutes each.

My stepfather took groups of 8 or more kids on long walks up to Griffith Park, the Observatory, Barnsdall Art Park, and around the neighborhood in Los Feliz and Silverlake area. Outings to the Beach, Park, Mall, and long walks, always with groups of 8 or more kids.

So many stories to tell that sometimes I feel now as if I have lived several lifetimes already by the time I was a young teenager.

Went to the mall with a group of kids and we all split up and were supposed to meet at a designated time and place. I was about 13yrs old and Stan left me in charge of two young boys each about 3yrs old. We were window shopping when the younger boy suddenly pooped his pants really badly. He was a mess and smelled really bad. There we were standing in the Mall in front of a store and I was the only one with him and the other boy. I was nervous, but also I took it in stride and began to take charge and do what I thought was right. (I was more scared of getting into trouble with Stan than anything else) I took both boys into the nearest ladies bathroom. I tried to clean the boy who had poop running down his legs. I had no spare clothes for him and no washcloth or wipes, just the toilet paper and paper towels in the ladies room. The smell was awful and women were commenting/mumbling under their breath while in other bathroom stalls, about the smell in the bathroom.
I had to try and clean him up, but I could not get him clean all by myself. He started crying and the other boy was banging on the walls. I did not know what the right thing to do was. I did not cry or even think that it was wrong of Stan to have left me in charge of the two little boys. Then, I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving him alone in the bathroom stall half naked and still somewhat dirty, while I went and tried to find Stan. I somehow managed to find Stan, I got some money from Stan and went to buy new pants for the boy and baby wipes and a package of diapers. All the while I had the other little boy with me too. When I got back to the ladies bathroom the restroom manager lady was cleaning the boy for me. He was still crying a little bit and the manager woman got mad at me for leaving him in there all by himself with poop running down all over his legs. Well, I did not know what to do. Damn it I was trying my best at 13 years old. I remember having to lie and say he was my brother. I also remember thinking she was overreacting to the situation. She asked where our Mom was and I lied and said she was somewhere in the Mall, but not with us right then. Somehow, I finished cleaning the boy and got him dressed in the new pants and put a diaper on him. The other boy was beginning to cry also. Finally we left the bathroom and went to find Stan and the other kids. I felt humiliated by the whole situation, but at the same time, I thought I was handling things just fine.

Often times we were not supervised and began experimenting sexually with other kids. Sometimes with a couple of the kids my age, we would go into a closet area and play husband and wife.

I was not allowed to tell anyone in school what my parents did for a living. I remember knowing things needed to be kept a secret when my Mom told me that when visiting my grandparents or other family members I was not to discuss what my parents did, or anything to do with our church.

I quickly learned how to be economical with the truth and say an acceptable truth without giving all the details.

The kids who stayed with us sometimes came from abroad. I know a few little girls were German and at least one was from South Africa.

I remember one girl with dark hair who spoke French and some English; we were both about 10 years old and became fast friends. She enjoyed teaching me the alphabet in French and I loved listening to her accent. We were inseparable for a couple of weeks. We slept next to each other on a mat sometimes with our arms wrapped around. She was a precious jewel in my difficult life, exotic, fun, full of laughter and energy. She would help me with my chores, so we could have a bit of time to play. Early one morning I reached over to hug her, as we often did, and she was gone. The mat was cold. I stumbled to my feet quietly, aware that other kids were still sleeping and searched the quiet house and could not find her. I ran to my Mom and was told, in a matter of fact style, that her parents were sent off on a mission and she had gone with them.

They had picked her up sometime in the night. I was heartbroken. No one had said she was leaving and no one in my house talked about her after she was gone. We never had a chance to say goodbye and I was overcome with grief. I secretly cried for days and made a promise to myself I would never get close to any of the kids again.

All together I think my folks ran the 24/7 home care center from early 1979 thru 1989.

From before I could even understand the concepts, I was taught to believe that any person associated with psychiatry or other types of pseudo counseling was evil. I was taught that they stick ice picks in people's brains and perform electric shock therapy. In addition I was taught that they prescribed huge amounts of drugs that sometiems killed people. Many times in my childhood at our local church, I saw a short film which showed psychiatrists performing electric shock therapy.
I learned to be terrified of psychiatrists and psychologists.

Years later when I needed serious help I had to overcome a lot of brainwashing about psychologists in order to get the help I needed.

I helped out with work on renovations of the old hospital complex when I was about 10 years old. Most of the basement areas were very creepy. Dimly lit hallways and corridors, distant echoes of voices and an eerie silence along with the occasional odd building/pipe noises.

(Would have been a perfect setting for a sci-fi movie, ha ha!! LRon should have made one in there) Oh goodness it gave me goosebumps. I remember the incinerator machine room(where they burned dead bodies), in the morgue area. Eeeewww, brings shivers to my body even now remembering this stuff.

Through my teen years my home situation got worse. My stepdad continued to abuse me in various ways. He yelled, pulled my hair, slapped my face and hit me. Sometime he would tie me to a chair in a room above the garage and make me watch pornographic movies with him or look at porn magazines while he enjoyed himself. He was so abusive that I think he was a bit psychotic.

The bizzare part was that sometimes he acted like my friend and then a moment later he would hit me, or yell at me and beat me up. It was so strange. I never talked about it to anyone outside the church, because I knew that it was wrong to take matters outside the church. We had our own justice system. However I only tried a ocuple of times to tell people at church and they did nothing to stop him. However I got in trouble for �pulling it in� and �creating enturbulation�.

Ethics officers and other scientology memebers treated me like I was at fault for being hit. So I learned quickly not to tell anyone.

Once in the middle of the night he woke me up and made me watch him smash kittens on the kitchen table. He hit each one on the head with a hammer until the skull was crushed. The kittens had been born a week earlier from one of our 8 or 10 cats and I had watched them being born and he knew I loved them.

It is the middle of the night and I wake up, startled by my stepfather half dragging me from the warm darkness of my sleep into the brightly lit kitchen with its cold floor.
The contrast of the dark house filled with quietly sleeping children and this bright kitchen with me awake and scared is stark.
It’s a quiet night all through the house and yet here I stand in the kitchen of our home with my step-father, The tiny kitten, its heartbeat pulsating against my palm, while warm, thick , red liquid, spills forth from its soft grey fur, onto my trembling hands and drips down between my fingers to create a puddle on the floor, near my bare feet
Silent tears pour down my small quivering cheeks and I taste them on my lips before they splash onto the floor, mingling with the red sticky substance that is slowly oozing toward my naked toes.
I vaguely hear myself ask my bemused and angry stepfather what we should do with this tiny kitten he has placed in my hands.

Once He put a bunch of baby kittens inside a plastic bag and threw them into the trash barrel outside. I could hear them making noise and I was very upset. Another time when we had too many cats, my stepdad made me help him load them into our car and he drove to griffith park and released them high in the hills just below the observatory area.
I thought this was a good thing, because at least he was not smashing them or flushing them down the toilet as he had done with baby kittens a few times.

I ran away several times to other church members� homes. However the church members always took me back home. None of them would believe me because I told such outrageous things, they could not believe any of it was true. They told my Mom and stepdad that I needed more auditing because I was mixing up past life memories with my current life.

Shit, these were people I went to hoping they could help. I thought they might believe me about the craziness at my home.

Most of my childhood I was only allowed to eat healthy food. Mom read the book �let�s have health children� and she wanted to follow the book�s advice as close as possible. All the while she and my Stepdad would eat McD�s, oreo cookies, candy, and ice cream.

I would eat junk food anytime I could when I was not at home.

someday I will write the story about Auditing with a specialist, a childrens auditor ...

Many times starting at about 9 years old I worked as a volunteer, at local church orgs. Sometimes in central files, cleaning, filing, copying documents, doing small errands, etc... I watched older kids as they delivered messages and did important errands and I thought someday I would like to do that.

Starting at about 11 yrs old I volunteered at the org, but due to the execs I was working with, I was required to wear an SO uniform and a Gold Braid. Once I forgot my gold braid and someone yelled in my face and sent me off to get it. Another staff member let me borrow one so I wouldn�t have to walk the mile home and back.

I listened to many conversations, but still never knew what was going on. I delivered messages and many times people yelled at me and slammed doors. I felt proud to be helping scientology clear the planet and disseminate the tech.

(13) 1984 Home School: My Step-dad took me out of a public school after the 6th grade because he wanted me to be on course at the org more of the time. He told me it was all fine and that he had even started his own private school. I remember going with him to some official office of education where he filed papers to make it legal. There were about eight kids including myself.

The other students were all church members� children, and we had a couple of Sea Org kids. We never had a set schedule of class work and he did not teach us much that would be useful for our adult lives. Our studies consisted of reading various LRH church books, learning study techniques and doing drills with demo kits.

Many-times we were given books to read and told to write a short report when we finished the book. I learned a lot through reading and using a dictionary, but there was no formal teaching. A few times Stan/stepdad gave us old school textbooks, told us to read a chapter, and prepare for an oral quiz.

We also participated in the �communication course" and did hours of scientology "training routines". Once in a while he would take us to the local library and we could check out any books we wanted. I loved the library and always read mystery novels and science fantasy stories.

My parents sent me to ASHO for more processing and even found an auditor who specialized in working with children.

Somewhere during this time I went on the "purification rundown" over at Narcanon. I took the bus down vermont and walked to the Narcanon House. I would sign in and then take my daily doses of vitamins and drinking the awful oil drink. I don't remember what all we had to do. But I remember a couple of kids who lived in the house and we would run away and have fun in the park, or just wander the streets. I hated the part of the purif where I was supposed to sit in a hot sauna for several hours. The men there were ex dope and drug users and they would give me looks and try to grab me and touch me. That is when I would leave.

At about 14 years old a male executive at the complex asked me if I wanted to help out and be a commodore�s messenger and do more important thing other than filing and cleaning. He said I was a bit young, but I was doing an excellent job already and he told me I could sign up with the Commodore's Messenger Org (CMO).

I was very excited and eager to be away from home and away from my abusive stepdad. My parents would not allow me to join the CMO, so the executive who was recruiting me, said I could volunteer until I was older or my parents gave permission. I felt so important and believed I was helping to �clear the planet� and disseminate scientology.

Since I was working with sea org execs, I was required to wear a sea org uniform. I don�t remember the org or division but I was given a Gold Braid to wear. (I was not officially Sea Org or Staff at any org yet.) Sometimes my errands required me to go across town and I rode the bus down Vermont and walked the rest of the way there and sometimes I walked all the way back, if I did not have bus fare.

I went on course at ASHO and completed the HQS Hubbard qualified scientologist course when I was about 14 1/2 I also went clear through auditing at a young age and my parents bought me a �clear bracelet� { I'm sure I am listed on a website somewhere with lists of sci clears}

My clear bracelet is the only thing I have from my childhood and I keep it in my jewelry box. I can�t imagine ever parting with it, because it is the only tangible thing I have from my youth. Emotionally I have very mixed feelings about attesting to clear. Everyone has their own opinions but for me I truly remember at least one recent past life and as an adult I have been able to trace some of the facts of that lifetime. (a bit spooky, but still very real to me)

Back to when I was 13ish. We moved all home operations to a house off of Santa Monica blvd not far from sunset ave.

Our house was built against the base of a hill and one extra bathroom was built outside at the back of the house adjoining the garage. The floor was plywood balanced over large cement bricks. The walls of the shower area were partly brick and partly dirt from the hillside.

The whole house was dirty and smelly most of the time and my Mom and I did a lot of cleaning to try and keep up with having all ages of kids all the time. We still had several cats that never used the cat litter box, but just relieved themselves anywhere in the house. Aaaagh it was disgusting.

We also raised a couple of chickens in the living room, in a cage.

I remember doing chores and working my entire childhood. Cleaning and watching younger kids at our in home childcare center.

Mom tried to kill herself by drinking drano and had to go to the church medical center. I think I was about 14 years old, because we were living on Myra Street. I called Grandma Kemmerer, she wanted me to call the police and an ambulance, but I knew I would be in big trouble, so I called the church chaplain instead. ASHO Org sent two church Sea Org members and they took Mama away in a car to the Fountain Ave Shaw medical center which was run by scientology doctors. I stayed home with all the childcare kids, while Mama had to go to the doctor. I think Stan was out at the Adult bookstore because he came home a short time after they took Mama away. He had a brown paper package as he often did and he went straight up to the back room before coming down to help watch the kids and then finding out what had happened to Mama. Oh no big deal, She only drank some drano and I had to call for help.
Laurel was in our room reading books and I don’t even know if she remembers when they came to take mama to the doctor. I also called Grandma Kemmerer again and she came over to the house. Grandma K. went to the church to try and find out about my Mom. She was told that my Mom would be okay, but had to stay at the church housing for a couple of days because she was out ethics and needed medical care from church doctors. When Carolyn came home from two days at the church, she packed a small overnight bag and she went to stay with Grandma and Grandpa Kemmerer for a couple of days. When she got back to us at the Myra house, nothing was ever said about what happened. I was terrified that she would get sick again or do something else, but I could not talk about it with anyone.

Lice were a common thing amoung all the kids at our daycare. I used to wash the kids hair with rubbing alcohol to kill the bugs.

We also had dried cat poop and pee on the floor from all the cats who did not use the litter boxes.

The cockroaches crawled all over everywhere and the dirty dishes were always piling up in the kitchen

Once in a while I would be allowed to go and baby-sit for a public scientologist in their home and it would amaze me how other people had such large clean homes and nice clothes. I thought they must be rich to own such nice things.

One time at about 14yrs old I experienced a terrifying incident while cleaning house at a public scientologist's home. There was a robbery and I was tied up and gagged and left in the bedroom, while the robbers (presummed other church members) ransacked the house. A neighbor called the police, who came and then they called my Stepdad to come and get pick me up and I never went off to clean other houses any more.

Most days at home with the childcare center I went to bed immediately after finishing my chores. (Bed was where ever I could find that was not too smelly and lie down with a pillow and my sleeping bag. )

Most of my life, Mom would not let me go to any friends' houses to play because she told me I should play with the kids (mostly younger) at our own home childcare center.

As a young teen I loved taking martial arts classes at a local martial arts school run by a scientologist. Many times I would walk the three miles to class and back home. Sometimes my Stepdad would pick me up after class.

Twice when I was 12, my stepdad came to pick me up after class and I was not fully dressed. He got angry and came into the dressing room picked me up while I was only wearing a shirt and panties, without my pants on and threw me over his shoulder and carried me outside and down the street to the car. Just another humiliating moment.

Nothing was done or said by the scientologist who ran the school. However one day in my mid-teens I went to my martial arts class with a bruise on my face and also on my upper arms. (the school was owned by scientologists) My martial arts teacher asked me how I got the buises and I told him I had gotten into a fight with my stepdad. The teacher wanted to call my house and I begged him not to call, because then I would really be in trouble when I got home. He told me if I ever came to class with bruises again, he would personally beat the crap out of my step-dad. I made sure to hide any bruises and try to be careful.

My mom was cheating on my stepdad and she liked to tell me about it in detail. I suppose I was the only one she had to talk to, because she rarely left the house and my stepdad did not allow her to be on the phone much at all. He controlled all of us in many ways.

When my Mom said she was thinking about leaving him, I was terrified. I did not want to choose between them and I knew I did not want to live with her in some small crappy apartment.

Mom went to see the local org chaplain who convinced her to stay married, but perhaps live separately for a short time and get some 2nd dynamic auditing and the ARC rundown. So she went and stayed with a staff member at a house almost across the street from LA org. Mom stayed there for almost two months.

I was kept so busy helping to care for the kids and doing chores around the house, that I had very little time to myself. I never complained about the gross condition of our house, because they seemed normal to me.

Also I was constantly told how we were helping the church mission to clear the planet and disseminate the tech because we were providing a valuable service of lowcost childcare so parents could be on course or on staff.

I spent as much time as possible at the church because my Step-dad was extremely abusive and I was tired of working, cleaning and caring for so many kids. When my Stepdad got mad he often picked me up and physically slammed me against the wall sometimes more than once. If I cried during punishment he would cover my nose and mouth until I could not breathe and nearly passed out. Then he would shove me to the floor and yell at me and kick me. I would try not to cry or react, so he would leave me alone.

Both my parents had another typical scientology belief, that children need to contribute to the family equally as much as adults. So, even as a young child I was viewed as needing to perform proper exchange to the family group. Just because I was a kids was no excuse not to pull my own weight in the family.

Mom especially believed kids were just thetans in small bodies, �able beings� who should not be allowed to go out exchange and therefore out ethics. My Stepdad was bizzare even for a Scientologist, he lost his temper easily and got really violent.

In 1986 I was 15 and My Mom moved out after about 8 years of being abused. She told me she could not take my stepdad�s abuse and she was tired of taking care of so many children 24/7 all year long. I was glad my Mom was getting out to save herself, but I did not want to leave. I loved my Stepdad and hated him at the same time.

There were many times in my mid teens when I got drunk. I would sneak out of the house at night and walk to the complex and give sexual favors to a few sea org members in exchange for money, alcohol and smokes. I think almost everyone in the sea org smoked back then.

At ASHO I was given honorary posts to help upper lever execs with errands and be a messenger. I was not officially a staff member, but I attended Staff Muster and Staff Briefings and sometimes slept in SO berthing rooms on a mat on the floor etc... I often ate in the galley with fellow staff members.

At 15 1/2 years old I secretly had my first girlfriend and first lesbian kissing and sexual relationship She was the daughter of a Sea org member and we would go out to the dumpster area and kiss and touch each other. When I told a "trusted friend" she wrote up a knowledge report on me immediately "for my own good". I was hauled into ethics one more time.

Another time a church member saw us both together, we were sitting holding hands and smoking near the dumpsters with a couple other kids. Again I was written up and called into the ethics office.
This time they told me I needed some serious auditing to handle my case. The Registrar called my stepdad for him to pay for the auditing to help me with my severe pts case and mixed up sexual identity etc... The auditing would cost several thousand dollars. My stepdad gladly paid for it, But when I got home he beat me even more for having been involved in lewd behaviour and lesbian acts. He called me a piece of shit and all sorts of names while he was slapping and hitting me. He even made me pull down my pants so he could spank my ass bare handed. At least he did this in another room away from the childcare kids.

Later on while I was still volunteering at ASHOday I began to change my mind and decided I did not want to join staff. I got heavy pressure to join and I am greatful now that my Mom would not allow me to sign. My stepdad had no legal authority over me, since he never adopted my sister or me.

One time the org registrars put so much pressure on me to find a way to get money for yet anohter series of auditing it was ridiculous. I was escorted to a small office with a phone and two org registrars stayed in the room with me. One sat across the desk and the other stood over my shoulder. They told me I needed to call everyone I knew.

They watched me as I called family, friends and scientology acquaintances to ask for money. When I was continually turned down I felt horrible. I was so confused. Finally, I made an excuse to go the ladies room and then snuck out the back door of the LA Org. (OMG, I felt so humiliated )

Thank the Gods I was too young for credit cards.

The year my Mom finally left her husband and moved to the Sherman Oaks valley area and lived with a scientology roommate, I was 15 about to turn 16. I had an active life with dance classes and martial arts classes and loved volunteering at the church so I could spend most of my time away from home.

I had friends who were all at least 18years old or older. Mom asked me if I wanted to move in with her and share a single bedroom with her and my little sister, or if I would prefer to stay and live with my stepdad.

The choice was obvious to me. I wanted to stay where I was and not move to somewhere far away and live in a cramped little apartment in an area where I did not know anyone. After this my Mom took very little interest in me since she had to find a job and take care of my younger sister who had never been in school up to that time. Mom enrolled my sister in a public school in Encino. The first contact my sister had with children not being raised by scienolgy parents. What a horrific change for her.

When I turned 16 in december 1986 I stayed living with my step-dad. martial arts classes, dance lessons, working at the Org and helping run the childcare at our house. I was raped by my martial arts teacher, who was also a friend of my family and a scientologist.

Later that same year I got a paid job with the church. I worked with the church lawyers and an audit firm assisting in preparation of documents, etc... for a tax audit. I was paid about $75 a week. (big bucks to me) The church was trying to hold onto �tax exempt status, as a church� and the IRS was not making it easy. During this paid project I had to wear 'real world' feminine casual business clothes, due to the nature of the work sometimes out in public locations. I didn�t know how to go shopping for clothes, (at 16 I had never purchased clothes other than thrift stores) so a female exec sea org member took me to the Glendale galleria and I had enough money to buy one nice skirt and blouse outfit.

Also during this legal audit preparation project, sometimes I was required to work till 11pm and sleep on the office floor. In the morning I would go and eat in the galley and then go upstairs to someone�s berthing room to shower and change clothes before I went back to work. Iloved spending so much time at the church, because it was much nicer than my house.

Cut to the following year, 17yrs old 1988 Celebrity Center
Finally, at 17, I moved out of my stepdad�s house with just a few clothes and personal things and went to live at the CC Manor. I became a staff member at CC Manor in Hollywood on Franklin Ave and worked there for about a year.

While I was on staff at CC my Grandparents paid for me to attend a tutoring academy part time. The tutoring center was owned and operated by a Scientologist who had a valid teaching credential in my state. The tutoring academy was supposedly not related to CofS, but again I was taught basic study tech. I took several tests to see what my grade level was compared to public education. I was lucky because I loved to read and I knew enough English to easily pass several sections of the test. However I needed to study math and science.

The teacher gave me two small science books to read and he helped me practice several math problems over and over so I could pass the exam. After 6 months of part time study, I passed the GED state exam and received a GED equivalent High School Diploma.

My family members who were not in the church began trying to get me out and show me that there was much more to the world than being a scientology staff member. I went into a condition of doubt at CC.

I was removed from post and ordered to do lower levels to keep my status as a member in good standing. So much went through my mind, so much confusion at that time. when I was 17yrs old the recruiters began coaxing me and then pushing my buttons to get me to sign my sea org contract that I had actually signed when I was 15yrs old. (somehow I did not know that my Sea Org contract was not legally binding, since I was a minor)

I was sent to ethics and told to write up my withholds and name the suppressives in my life. I was �sec checked� more times than I can remember all through my life at various orgs. At the CC Manor I was threatened with the RPF which was so ludicrous because I wasn�t even a sea org member.

I was told to get my ethics in and remember our primary purpose to clear the planet and bring scientology tech to the entire planet. During one session with my auditor I discussed some thoughts of confusion about my life and the sea org and told her I was thinking of leaving for a little while to live with my grandparents in Pasadena so I could clear my thoughts and make the right decision for my life. She ended our session abruptly and sent me back to the waiting room, to get a snack and drink some warm cal-mag(calcium-magnesium drink).

Soon another auditor, who had recently arrived to CC from FLAG, came into the waiting room and called me back into session. This time after we began our session, two other staff members joined us. They began showing me bulletins and asking me questions about the tech and our purpose, and checking my needle.

I would not give them the answers I knew they wanted because I didn�t want to lie anymore. I asked to see my previous auditor and they began yelling at me. I remember getting angry and said they had no right to keep me there. They told me something about being so off purpose and out ethics that perhaps I was an SP. That thought scared me and I began to wonder inside if I really was suppressive. They ended the session and left me in the room briefly. I remember knowing I was in deep trouble because I had mentioned leaving the celebrity center to live with my family for a while. After what seemed like a long time and nobody came back into the room, I suddenly got very scared for the first time. I began thinking that no one knew exactly where I was. I was worried about being in such a small windowless room. (I had heard rumors during my childhood about this type of processing) After at least an hour alone in the room, I tried the door but it was locked. I began screaming and pounding on the door and kicking the walls, hoping someone would hear me and open the door. Finally I remember sobbing and rocking myself back and forth on the floor.

A woman came in and gave me some water and a warm sweater, but she would not speak. One of the men came back in and demanded in a harsh tone that I was to write up a list of all persons who I had contact with outside the church. Truly at that time, I knew no one outside the church besides my grandparents and a few other distant family members. One Aunt and Uncle were public members of the church but were never on staff. My godfather was a member in good standing.

All the people I knew were either public scientologists onlines at a local org or they were staff or in the sea org. I tried to recall and wrote names of kids I knew back when in public school. This was not good enough.

They told me I was PTS and needed to write disconnect letters to my antagonistic non-church family members including my grandparents. I knew if I wrote the letters I could never have contact with them ever again. At this point I think I was sobbing. (I was only several months shy of turning 18 yrs old.) The exec officer joined us in the room and he gave me pen, papers and a draft outline of a proper disconnect letter. I was left along to write the letters. I could not bring myself to write them, but I began to wonder what would happen if I did not write the letters.

I was exhausted and could barely think. When they finally came back into the room I felt so crazy and told them I knew my priorities were out and I needed proper handling. I told them I could not write the disconnect letters but I would do anything else.

I requested to be put onto mest work and to be allowed auditing to handle my case and help to get my ethics in. I told them I wanted to resume my post at CC Manor. They agreed but threatened me within an inch of my life if I ever F'd up again.

Later that year I worked for a few months in the treasurer�s office. Then due to lack of staff, I held two posts and worked about 12 or 14 hours daily. I worked the outdoor snackstand, some work in the restaurant, some work in the kitchen preping food. Still assisting the treasurer of CC.

A lot happened when I was put to work in the galley, including multiple sexual molestations from male staff and sea org members. (I did not care anymore, I was more a robot than human, besides I knew it was my fault and somehow I had pulled it in. ) I was exhausted all the time, but it was still better than being at my home with my Stepdad. In the CC Manor basement galley area, there were huge rats which would climb along the pipes or run along behind the large freezer. I was scared to be in the basement alone.

The man in charge of all operations of the restaurant and the snack stand on the patio, used to shoot a BBGun at the rats. One time he hit a small rat and it fell off the overhead pipe onto the floor a couple feet away from me and I screamed. I was exhausted and terrified. I ran to the service elevator and went up to my room. I began to drinking excessively in secret. (BTW, I was paying rent for my shared room at the manor, that�s another story)

Soon after the rat incident, I called my Grandmother from a payphone in the hallway on one of the guestroom floors at the Manor hotel. Staff rarely walked the hall on this floor, so I took a chance to use the phone. I told Grandma I wanted to see her and she agreed to meet me for lunch at a place across Franklin ave. At that time I had no intention of leaving the church, but felt confused and lonely.

None of my other family would talk about the church and my childhood upbringing. None of them could even understand what I was trying to say. I felt as if I was screaming to deaf people. They wanted to help me but did not know what to do.

I devised a plan slowly and secretly. I finished my assigned lower
conditions and was allowed back at the CC to my shared room with three other women. I began to save my weekly pay and stashed it in a sock at the back of my closet space.

One day on personal time I took a bus back to my stepdad�s house near Santa Monica blvd and stole some money and found an old personal notebook with family phone numbers. Then I went back to post at CC. My stats were up and I was doing well at my post. I began assisting the Registrar for a few hours a week and made commission a few times. Since I was on good terms with the finance officer and treasurer, I convinced them I needed at least some of my pay to buy new uniform shirts and shoes.

Continued in another post further down.

I'm going to need some time on your story.
I got a good start though.

You are a wonderful person. Thank you so much for telling me your story. You write beautifully. That's a great gift to have. I am very sleepy, so can't say much more now, but I wish you well in your journey of healing. May your days be full of joy.

--- James.

Dolphinlover, that is a very moving story.

I used the phrase "absolutely brutal childhood" after I read doubleVee's story, and I'm afraid it applies equally well to you. I can see why you were inspired by her story.

I've been very lucky in comparison, but I did share a couple of physical ailments with you -- a ruptured appendix and a tonsillectomy. Not fun.

Your step-dad should have never been allowed to get away with all of those horrible abuses. Your mother and other Scientologists enabled him by refusing to hear the truth from you. Based on other stories I have read, the refusal to believe reported abuse from a minor is a woeful pattern often repeated in the Co$.

I would like to join the others in wishing you the best as you continue your recovery and work towards building a new and better life.

[quote="Walker."] ... I'm a professional writer so i thought i could help out, don't take it the wrong way. It's a great story, and you are very brave, the story just needed to be centered a little more to really get the message out. Also, you have bipolar disorder, so i wish you well in your recovery from it. Here is your story ... :[quote]

Walker, I am not sure what to say to you right now. I think perhaps you could have spoken to me via private message on here.

Right now I am very angry. FYI I do not have Bi-Polar disorder I have been officially diagnosed since 1996 with PTSD, Dissociate Identity Disorder and Major Depression.

Please do not tell others what you think their clinical diagnosis is. That could be dangerous on a very severe level.

Perhaps when I am not so angry at you, I can take the time to read the edited version of MY STORY.