I remember............................
Hiding behind the other's waiving arms while frantically waiving mine, trying to look motivated, but not wanting to be called on.
Being so sick. Not having a bowel movement for 14 days. My stomach all swollen. Staff accusing me of being pregnant. Finally getting a laxative (I needed a doctor)and then having to use the rest room with the door open at my old commer's house.
Dosing off in group and being poked in the rebs and told to sit up straight.
Being told on a daily basis that I was full of sh**, that I was a druggie a-hole, to get honest, to ask myself why, to get out of my head (quit thinking).
Getting laughed at after relating.
Being told to sit-down while I was in the middle of relating.
Having cigarettes provided to me by my parents to smoke while in the Seed and i was only 15 years old.
Being made to wait for ridiculous amounts of time before being granted restroom access and then having it all documented as i signed in to use the toilet.
Walking hand in hand with other girls.
Feeling abandoned. Being abandoned.
Getting mocked and pushed in the halls of School.
Looking straight into the eyes of my former friends and telling them I did not want to talk to them.
In girls rap, they would always make the same disgusting comment about a coke bottle. Anyone else remember that?
Being forced to eat a bologna sadnwich that had rancid, jelled mayonaise and gaging after each bite.
Being limited to 2 small cups of coolaid each day.
Throwing out all of my belongings because they were old druggie ties.
My oldcommer stealing my entire suitcase of clothes because they were old druggie ties.
Confessing to every drug that pot could possibly have been laced with. "I used pot, um...hash, hashish, acid, angel dust, speed, maybe rat poisoning.....um...codine...?"
Sitting in group and trying to practice making my face have a happy, glowing look.
Hearing girls confess to abuse, abortions and never seeing those addressed with counseling or even a kind word.
Exercising out on the HOT asphalt. Push-ups, sit-ups right on the hot surface. Doing the hokey-pokey for the old friends who were watching from accross the street and feeling utterly humiliated.
Getting all worked up to a frenzy in the Spree de Corps raps, or the Love raps.
Seeing my mom cry from accross the room at the open meetings and knowing she wanted me.
Being convinced I was powerless. Insane. Weak. Had no morals.
Writing Moral Inventories. "I am full of sh** because I don't care about anyone but myself, because I am selfish, because, because, because, because, because."
Watching in horror as a kid would randomly be selected to be 'come down on' and told where he/she 'was at'. Horrible discriptions for the boys when they would inevidably end up in prison. For the girls it was a discription of how much of a sl** they were and how they would end up as prostitutes. For both boys and girls, they were told they would be dead within a year if they left the program. These come down sessions always ended with "Love you!" from the entire group.
Having my inner self striped down to almost nothing and rebuilt with a lie. But guess what? A little peice of the real me survived and that is how I made it out of the cult.
LOVE YOU!!!!!!!