Part II
PART II
Why did I stay involved? I have asked myself that question so many times. Perhaps it was because in my formative years it was presented as the only possible solution, and I wasn’t mature enough to question that. I was already indoctrinated with the belief that any other road than Scn was a dead end and not worth looking at. And of course to do so would bar me from my road to Total Freedom. I didn’t want to take a chance.
The thing I wanted most from my involvement with Scn was to ‘regain my personal power’. Well now I can’t think of anything that could lead me further away from that goal than the road I travelled. It’s been a long one.
In 1978 I returned to the country of my birth, though a different city. As I had blown staff in the past I was ineligible to join again, without a lot of ammends anyway. So I started the amends. This consisted of volunteer work for CCHR and the local Class 4 org GO, mostly typing as it was something I could do efficiently, and recruiting, which I was lousy at.
I married again and was pregant in 1979. The CCHR work was mostly done in a tin shed in the backyard, and during the summer months this was hell on earth with temperatures over 30C. I did that for a year and a half, did my Student Hat and petitioned to be able to join staff, and it was OK’d, so joined the GO, pending final security clearance.
In April 1980 the org was burnt down, which was a tremendous shock. It then operated from 5 different houses for quite some time. My memory of that time is one of great team spirit and making things go right, against the odds. There were some good people there. We all finally moved into new org premises in the city.
I worked until the day my baby was born and luckily was granted 5 weeks maternity leave! When I returned to post there was a big flap with everyone in the GO being blasted as DB shits and M4ing Simon Bolivar. I remember feeling really sick, holding a newborn baby late into the night trying to get checked out.
With both of us on staff, the only way we survived was my husband moonlighting, as most often there was no pay or something ridiculous like $5 a week. I was allowed to bring my baby on post with me for a short time, and although I know now I was lucky to have time with him, it was extremely difficult. There was no running water or facilities and trying to keep him quiet was almost impossible. I was allowed to work only days during those months but then was ordered to be on post for the fulltime schedule, which was 9am – 10.30pm with Sunday afternoon off. I had no support of any kind and the stress was so great that my husband blew in order for us to survive. He was almost expelled at this point but managed somehow to come back part time. I found day care for my infant, something I had never wanted to do.
I was not OK’d on a security clearing to hold the post I was then on, because of my past staff blow, and was demoted. I still had to cope with a baby on post after day care hours were over, and study, and I was desperately unhappy. I was too far in to leave, though I wish I had.
I remember one time there was a Garrison Mission and still being on post at 1am with a small baby screaming, trying to pass a White Glove inspection. This went on for a week. My baby was getting sick very often, running fevers and hardly sleeping more than 2 hours at a time. I decided I had to leave, but was handled to stay with reduced hours, ie I went home at night. Immediately my son started to sleep and wasn’t so sick. My husband was able to start minding him sometimes, and that reduced the pressure on me.
However one day my toddler pulled a cup of hot tea onto his arm and face while I was distracted on post, resulting in a 3 day stay in the Hospital Burns unit. I was devastated and became even more highly stressed for his safety and our future.
Yet again I was persuaded to stay, supposedly for the greatest good and I was put in charge of setting up a huge international event, which took 5 months to organise. I fell pregnant again, yet managed to pull it off with a lot of blood, sweat and tears. I was a physical and emotional wreck after that and was very concerned about my physical state, as was my doctor, and I finally decided that the health of both my children and myself was more important than anything else. Woohoo for a flash of sanity!
I CSW’d for a LOA at 5 months into my pregnancy. The result was an SRA I had seen delivered to other people, and had never envisioned being on the receiving end of. I was screamed at and reduced to rubble by someone I had considered a surrogate mother, and totally caved in.
However I also walked out, early 1982!
I had a healthy baby and became a real mother for the next few years.
Until Part III.
