Fornits

Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
An open discussion about the troubled parent industry

Auntie Em: The games were always comprised of adults with some kids. Usually only 2-3 kids with about 6 or more adults. Some of these games went on for 4 hours and even up to 8 hours.

Danny B: Fist-bump on that one.

In 1975, I was sent to Synanon, Santa Monica when I was 11 years old. I was not a troubled child, drug addict or afflicted in any way mentally. My mother was seduced by one of the Synanon fundraisers, "Rona", who convinced her that they had a "great summer program for kids." My mom shipped me off to Synanon from Chicago (probably so she could spend more time with her latest husband) for 8 weeks. She knew NOTHING about the organization. Strictly took Rona's word for it. I begged her with collect calls about 3 times a week to let me come home. I was subjected to "Games", incredible hard labor and verbal/mental abuse by my "dorm mother." I moved to Santa Monica about 5 years ago and must have almost completely blocked out my experience until I was walking past the Casa Del Mar one afternoon and my husband saw me go completely white. I asked, "What is that building?" When he told me it used to be the Synanon headquarters, I collapsed on the sand and everything came rushing back. The worst part is that for all these years/decades, I have had no one else to talk to. It is like the worst acid trip or night terror -- you experience it, but you can't relate it to anyone. I came back to Chicago a very different child then when I'd left. No one understood why the sweet, malleable, good student was replaced with an almost demonically mature girl who could make anyone cry with just words. I'd learned quite a lot in those games. My deepest hurt is that my mother will not accept her mistake in sending me there. Cannot accept that she just flat out failed as a mother to protect her child. She put her delusions and interests ahead of everyone. When I tell her that I want to learn more about her thought process in sending her 11 year old daughter across the country to some unknown "camp", she just says, "You never remember all the good things I've done for you." I wish I could just talk to someone about what it was like to be there as a child. As a child with no one to look after me, or comfort me. It was war. I was enlisted for hard labor in Tomales Bay for Dederich's wedding. I was tormented by every adult female to shave my head. The best memory is of the Vietnam Vet who lived in the hallway on the 2nd floor of the main building. He was too freaked out to stay in a room, so he camped in the hallways. He taught me to play chess and on my last day there, he let me win. I don't even know how I was let go. I know there were kids there that couldn't get out. There were 3 or 4 boys there who were really tough and they made themselves my older brothers. They taught me to swear, to dance, to fight, to fight back. I would've died there without them. I'm over-all an incredibly lucky person. I have lived an amazing, full life. Still, I have a lot of pain caused by my mother's actions and in-actions. My experience at Synanon is still a bit beyond my comprehension, but I'm hoping to find some sort of closure or at least commiseration. Maybe here? Thanks for reading...