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.
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, my e-mail account and everything to do with Scientology that I had on my computer. It didn't stop me though, I kept looking.
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.
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.
Look at our brokenness.
We know that in all Creation
Only the human family
Has strayed from the sacred way.
Teach us love,compassion,honour
That we may heal the earth
And heal each other.(part of an Ojibway prayer)
Last edited by tamasin-sp on Wed Mar 03, 2010 1:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.