Fornits
Treatment Abuse, Behavior Modification, Thought Reform => Straight, Inc. and Derivatives => Topic started by: Carmel on November 01, 2005, 11:40:00 AM
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I always was terrified of Past Raps. Almost as much as Reviews. If you didnt have a good, juicy past incident to really cry about.....man, you would be big trouble. And if you didnt cry in the exact manner complimentary to the severity of your past incident....well then you were pushing feelings and that was an excuse to turn a past rap into a confrontational extravaganza.
There were always several phasers who had what I like to call an "Ongoing Incident". These were usually things considered "big" like a rape, or someone dying or molestaion or a bad sexual experience of some sort besides rape. Staff would periodicaly urge them to re-hash the incident if they happened to be in a particulary "bad" place in group. Like "Look, Christy isnt doing well in group, she must need to deal with her feelings about being raped again".
Most of the time these kids got the staff version of sensitivity about these things, but they could be turned into accusations of dishonesty if you didnt really cry or confess about them properly when asked to do so. "So-and-so isnt sounding too honest, they must not have completely gotten past their dad dying." It was just all so insane, like anyone had to do with the other.
The one time I actually cried with real feelings about a past incident, moreso because I was afraid of all the kids from California, but partly because it was embaressing.....I got shredded by a 5th phase girl about not really feeling bad about what I had done. Even the staff on the stool were speechless after she finished. They just told me to sit down and acted like I had never been standing.
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Yeah it was all craziness.
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Past Raps were nerve-racking for me. Since I had never tried drugs, only got drunk once, and never had sex...and had only a couple family fights that seemed dramatic enough to bring up in group, I had a hell of a time thinking of something to say.
I couldnt believe some of the stories...about things I had never even considered doing...I felt like such an idiot and very naive by comparison. It never dawned on me that people exaggerated or invented stories to satisfy staff, nor did it occur to me to make stuff up.
I made the dreadful mistake of trying to talk about my parent's divorce and that I never got to see my mother, which was a HUGE issue for me. I was confronted for that one of course. I was told I was there for a drug problem not because of my mother. I kept thinking but I've never tried drugs. Confusing as hell.
Eventually though, staff finally left me alone in past parts of the raps....the bastards knew I really did not have a drug problem in the first place which I guess is the reason I was left alone once I "got honest about my liquid paper addiction." :roll: I guess that kept them from looking like a bunch of morans so made them happy.
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On 2005-11-01 08:40:00, Carmel wrote:
" confrontational extravaganza.
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Beautiful Carmel, I giggled reading this. :grin:
You really should write a book! Enlighten the people generally, and tyranny and oppression of both mind and body will vanish like evil spirits at the dawn of day
Thomas Jefferson
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On 2005-11-01 11:13:00, Nonconformistlaw wrote:
"Past Raps were nerve-racking for me. Since I had never tried drugs, only got drunk once, and never had sex...and had only a couple family fights that seemed dramatic enough to bring up in group, I had a hell of a time thinking of something to say.
I couldnt believe some of the stories...about things I had never even considered doing...I felt like such an idiot and very naive by comparison. It never dawned on me that people exaggerated or invented stories to satisfy staff, nor did it occur to me to make stuff up.
I made the dreadful mistake of trying to talk about my parent's divorce and that I never got to see my mother, which was a HUGE issue for me. I was confronted for that one of course. I was told I was there for a drug problem not because of my mother. I kept thinking but I've never tried drugs. Confusing as hell.
Eventually though, staff finally left me alone in past parts of the raps....the bastards knew I really did not have a drug problem in the first place which I guess is the reason I was left alone once I "got honest about my liquid paper addiction." :silly:
[ This Message was edited by: JMA on 2005-11-03 11:21 ]
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On 2005-11-03 11:20:00, JMA wrote:
On 2005-11-01 11:13:00, Nonconformistlaw wrote:
"Past Raps were nerve-racking for me. Since I had never tried drugs, only got drunk once, and never had sex...and had only a couple family fights that seemed dramatic enough to bring up in group, I had a hell of a time thinking of something to say.
I couldnt believe some of the stories...about things I had never even considered doing...I felt like such an idiot and very naive by comparison. It never dawned on me that people exaggerated or invented stories to satisfy staff, nor did it occur to me to make stuff up.
I made the dreadful mistake of trying to talk about my parent's divorce and that I never got to see my mother, which was a HUGE issue for me. I was confronted for that one of course. I was told I was there for a drug problem not because of my mother. I kept thinking but I've never tried drugs. Confusing as hell.
Eventually though, staff finally left me alone in past parts of the raps....the bastards knew I really did not have a drug problem in the first place which I guess is the reason I was left alone once I "got honest about my liquid paper addiction." :silly:
[ This Message was edited by: JMA on 2005-11-03 11:21 ]"
Oh yeah, they pulled the liquid paper scam on me big time. I had a habit of taking liquid paper from my parent's den to use for school work. Little did I know that would be twisted on me to turn into "my drug habit."
Back then it never occurred to me it was a scam pulled on many others. So they did that to you to huh...bastards. So did they ever try to make you talk about a past incident when you used liquid paper?
Ironically, I was never asked to "share an incident from my past when I got high from liquid paper." Pretty bizarre considering that was supposedly the reason I was there in the first place. But its a good thing I never had to "share" about it cause I would have nothing to say except...well I remember this time in my past when I was using liquid paper while doing my homework and I could smell the liquid paper fumes. I feel so ashamed of myself.
:roll: :roll: :roll:
I remember sometime during my upper phases having doubts about my "liquid paper problem" (imagine that!) and considered confessing that I had never used it....I decided that was not such a good idea and kept it on my drug list anyway....but by the time I 7th stepped, I fully believed I was a druggie. Apparantly the dry druggie line worked on me.
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Liquid paper...you know, I got busted once in junior High with 4 bottles of it in my purse. My school principal and the nurse had taken it upon themselves to do random searches of my belongings and my locker every few weeks.
The funny thing about it was that I had stolen all the stuff from my step-dad so I could paint with it in ISS (of which I was a regular visitor). They were all different colors, so I doodled with them.
Man, you should have seen the look of satisfaction on their faces when they caught me "red handed". Please.
As I recall, my principals in school were not unlike staff in the program. Looking for ways to get at me. I was successfully thrown out of TWO Junior Highs without a single strike against me of disturbance or distraction. My biggest black mark was refusing to attend D-hall, and holding the record for ISS in the semester due to said resistance. I liked it better in there anyway.
Oh yeah, and going back on an admission of drug use when you were on 4th or 5th was commonplace. It was reversed. They screwed your mind enough so that they could be sure you were honest....and then it was "ok" to admit you only sadi you huffed fumes because you wanted to impress the group.
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On 2005-11-03 11:20:00, JMA wrote:
...I didn't even know people sat around inhaling liquid paper. :silly:
Yeah, it's great, liquid paper. It gets you really high.
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I tried at one point to clear it up and say I did it, along with a bunch of other stuff I never did, but it came out all sarcastically and I just got screamed at. I finally managed to get by just admitting pot and over the counters and alcohol, which was all true.
By the end of my 5 months there though, I started having these memories of me inhaling liquid paper and I started to get these anxiety attacks that maybe I had actually been a liquid paper addict and just blocked it all out. And that I was totally and irreparably full of shit. I know, it's crazy. That's exactly the sort of thing I would never admit to someone that didn't know me very well or who didn't experience it there.[ This Message was edited by: JMA on 2005-11-03 21:08 ]
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On 2005-11-03 12:46:00, Carmel wrote:
Oh yeah, and going back on an admission of drug use when you were on 4th or 5th was commonplace. It was reversed. They screwed your mind enough so that they could be sure you were honest....and then it was "ok" to admit you only sadi you huffed fumes because you wanted to impress the group."
But sometimes, if my memory is right anyway, it seems that sometimes people would be confronted for it as well then set back. It seemed to work both ways, either as a sign of your progress, honesty, so it was ok, or against you, as a sign of still being a dishonest druggie.
I never went along with my "liquid paper addiction" in order to get ahead or impress the group...I went along with it because I was extremely confused, broken, scared, and didnt believe in or trust myself. I think the thought of admitting I never touched the stuff terrified me because of the possibility of being confronted yet again for being FOS and started over, so I just kept my trap shut. And besides...I had lingering confusion about it...I will post on this a little later.
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On 2005-11-03 21:05:00, JMA wrote:
"By the end of my 5 months there though, I started having these memories of me inhaling liquid paper and I started to get these anxiety attacks that maybe I had actually been a liquid paper addict and just blocked it all out. And that I was totally and irreparably full of shit. I know, it's crazy. That's exactly the sort of thing I would never admit to someone that didn't know me very well or who didn't experience it there.[ This Message was edited by: JMA on 2005-11-03 21:08 ]"
Since I was extremely confused from the moment I set foot in straight, my mind became so twisted. I was told over and over that I was not being honest about my drug problem, and repeatedly questioned about liquid paper. This started on my intake and continued as I was confronted in group.
I remember having "memories" of doing liquid paper during my continuous state of confusion. My thinking went something like this....Well, I remember one time while doing my homework I remembered that someone told me that people could get high from it. But I didn't believe it, nor did I actually want to get high. So, I held the bottle closer to my face and smelled (like you do to smell something normally, like a flower, but without inhaling). Nothing happened of course, since I wasnt really trying to get high...nor did I know how to. It was more like to disprove what I'd heard. Then I continued with my homework as usual.
But after being questioned so many times, I really questioned myself, Was I trying to get high from liquid paper?, I don't think I was but they keep telling me that I have a drug problem. They must know something I dont. Since everyone disagrees with me, I must be wrong, so I guess I was getting high from liquid paper. I seriously was so naive that I didnt understand that people would actually abuse their authority, and tell me what was "wrong with me" without evidence, without proper training, etc. I was raised to obey authority without question (which I rebelled against of course) and I had zero confidence in what I believed cause I had ALWAYS gotten in trouble for disagreeing and thinking differently than "I was supposed to."
Back and forth in my mind I went...I did, I didnt, I did, I didn't....god I was so confused and doubted myself no matter which direction my mind was going. I had this state of mind about it the entire length of my program. Which is part of why I never confessed that I had not done it. Every time I considered it, I feared confrontation, and I started doubting myself all over again. So my mind was always very twisted and screwed up while in Straight, especially about my "drug use."[ This Message was edited by: nonconformistlaw on 2005-11-04 22:36 ]
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I think that state of not knowing your own mind and what you really think can last a long time.
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I think smoking marijuana can help reveal one's true mind and intent, if used properly.
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On 2005-11-04 20:42:00, Anonymous wrote:
"I think smoking marijuana can help reveal one's true mind and intent, if used properly."
obviously spoken by a pothead LOL
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On 2005-11-04 21:49:00, Anonymous wrote:
"
On 2005-11-04 20:42:00, Anonymous wrote:
"I think smoking marijuana can help reveal one's true mind and intent, if used properly."
obviously spoken by a pothead LOL"
By a very smart and sexy pothead I may add :razz:
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Kinda new at the whole posting thing, but reading this thread brought back so much shit.
I think one of the worst things was getting set back for some crap that never would have occurred to you would be held against you... after about 2 years of up and down the phase game i finally got to go to a tiny one-room christian 'school' (and oh-so-gratefully did i trot off to it, dressed in my pearly rehab togs); got set back 5 days later, because i had played pool with my teacher. Pool was apparently seen as a huge druggie tie and i was evidently seen being 'coy and flirtatious' (ie laughing and enjoying myself) with the old man... then i came back to the building and was in such a good mood that i was singing a Queen song while helping to make the evening slop. Obviously that didn't go over too well either!
When I was brought into group off 'responsibilities' and stood up, to 'talk about my day at school' - as they used to scape-goat people into doing so the poor saps stuck to the blue chairs would feel properly jealous of others being able to go out off-leash - I was side-swiped and sand-blasted, set back immediately and frozen... It is one of the times I remember feeling the most totally fucking discouraged cause i really saw i would never know how to grasp all the shit you could not do, unless i just totally became something i couldn't be - a drone without tastes, without hobbies, without anything but the program...
I could never get the hang of WHY reading, singing, dancing, pool, etc would kill you, bring you back to drugs insanity death...
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When I was brought into group off 'responsibilities' and stood up, to 'talk about my day at school' - as they used to scape-goat people into doing so the poor saps stuck to the blue chairs would feel properly jealous of others being able to go out off-leash
Mondays in group was the worst for me because the staff would come in and brag about all the great things they did over the weekend. I guess they thought it would make us "work our program" even harder so we could do that stuff.
I used to daydream nonstop about all the fun things I wanted to do once I was free and yet it seemed so unattainable and far away.
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yeah...i remember that...i remember how i appreciated the smell of fresh air. i was so deprived of natural sunlight and the fresh breeze. i remember how keen all my senses became due to the deprivetion.
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The S.N.A.F.U. Principle
From a World War II Army acronym for "Situation Normal, All F*cked Up". "True communication is possible only between equals, because inferiors are more consistently rewarded for telling their superiors pleasant lies than for telling the truth." A central tenet of Discordianism, often invoked by hackers to explain why authoritarian hierarchies screw up so reliably and systematically. The effect of the SNAFU Principle is a progressive disconnection of decision-makers from reality.
Once upon a time, during the school year, some number of phasers were allowed* to have morning rap out in the back field instead of in the building. This was a big deal, or at least they played it for all it was worth. So we did the rap. I can't remember the content. It was, except for the blinding sunshine and the winsome sight of I-75 leading northward and away, probably typically mundane, idiotic bullshit.
When we got back inside, naturally they instructed us to talk about how wonderful it was. And it was! Once the blindness started to pass, it was absolutely fantastic to be out in the sun and fresh air! I never thought I'd be so happy to see and feel the sand and ants and flies an stickers.
None the less, it backfired. And that was sweeter still. Every damned one of us had been kept indoors for so long that even an hour or two of Florida sunshine left us severely burned. Some of us had blisters. And that li'll reality check lingered, painfully and undeniably for a week or more afterward.
Oh, it was so worth it! I was one of the fairest skinned ppl there, being primarily Irish and German by blood. Damn, that hurt! But it was soooo enjoyable seeing that little mean spirited attempt at inciting jealousy backfire so completely.
*Forgive the passive tense, please. I can't remember for certain which staffer allowed it (or, more rightly, announced it to us Groupies and took credit) but I think it was Letha Yost. Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name. Thy kingdom nada, thy will be nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee.
--Ernest Hemingway, American author
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That was a prison.
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God I wish I could remember a rap being held outside. I dont think I ever experienced one of those. I think the closest we got to the great outdoors was the precious car rides to and from the building every day, and those occassions that staff would allow group doors opened to let the fresh air in or to cool off the steaming hot group room.
Of course staff had to spoil our view & enjoyment of the sun and the nearby field by lining up several people to guard the doors....preventing cop outs was much more important than allowing us to enjoy a little fresh air and sunshine. :roll:
Yeah, it was prison alright. :mad:
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I remember a time in my past when...
My brother had just come back home and moved back into the boys' room in the house--the converted carport. He brought w/ him all kinds of interesting trinkets and ideas; world experience and such. I remember the Turkish stuff the most. There was this tapastry made by some old process involving painting w/ wax, dying the exposed fabric and then boiling out the was and making the next layer. It was a beautiful picture of black and maroon and deep purple making out an attractive, buxom brunette in perril from a big crow w/ sharp claws. And there was a skillfully crafted brass box shaped like a treasure chest; very ornate. That became the model for the little box in the back of my mind where I stashed my own thoughts while in the gulag. It was and is a precious thing that I'll always "own".
I'd lay back on my brother's waterbed, which smelled of must from old leaks and the musk of old sex, after school while my brother was at work. And smoke a jib of my brother's pot (he'd invited me to) and I'd look at that tapestry and wonder about the old room-mate who never returned from his last 'business trip' to Turkey.
Sometimes, I'd toke up and then go for a walk around the neighborhood, just reeling in the vibrant colors, smells, sounds and laughing inside about whether or not neighbors I chanced to meet knew how ripped I was.
Life was good. I often wonder what might have been had I not been drawn into the twilight zone.
It sucks when decent, hardworking people get screwed over like that. Because that means pricks like us don?t stand a chance.
Jim S. watching the devastation of the recent tsunami on the television at JR?s
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Fe'l ya.
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I remember a few raps where they would open the back doors of the building in summer... that was torture, cause you'd sit there remembering when you had choices... you could have gotten up ON YOUR OWN and just DECIDED to do something.
That was the one thing when I came out that held an almost eternal, mystical wonder - that I could fucking CHOOSE ANYTHING. Those first days of closing the bathroom door and being alone inside... the choice to be IN SILENCE, blessed god-damn quiet... The choice to walk away from someone obnoxious, or not have to answer when a person was trying to get into a conversation you didn't want to take part in... The biggest tortures of those places was in the thought of all the little things that were taken away.
One other thing I remember that freaked me out way back when, was the knowledge that people might not help you if you got out... I remember being put in the car when I first got in, and the other chick with us tried to take off so the oldcomer slammed the door so I was locked in with those bloody child-proofs... The other girl was running down the road screaming for help in the middle of the Bronx - people would look over and see her running from this other girl who was yelling 'don't worry, she's from a rehab. she's a drug addict and she needs help. she's out of her mind" and the people on the street JUST WATCHED HER GET TACKLED AND PUT BACK IN THE CAR. No one did anything. No one asked any questions. That was the creepiest fucking thing I'd ever seen...
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i' been kidnapped right off the street like that too. A total nightmare come true.
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-starry-eyed pirate :skull: :skull: :skull:
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Yeah I was kidnapped right off the street to...with bystanders watching....Only someone, for some reason actually intervened and tried to help. When the good samaritin lost his grip from the moving car I was held captive in...he told someone to call the police. (I found that out later of course). That person was rare I'm sure. I bet most people just stood by and did nothing. I never got to thank the good samaratin that actually recognized that something was very wrong and helped me. And its hell to know most kids didn't get lucky like I did, having someone come to my rescue I mean. Sadly Bird on A Wire's description of how the copout/kidnappings went down was the norm. :mad: