I had thought that things would improve on the ship with Hubbard's arrival; perhaps, get more humane. I couldn't have been more mistaken. We, as Flag interns, were about to get a good strong taste of what it was like to be so close to «source». (LRH was often referred to as Source). Several new disciplinary policies were instituted within a few weeks of his arrival.
There were several personnel changes in our department. Jeff Walker, a Class 12 auditor from New Zealand was made intern supervisor; David Mayo, also a Class 12 from New Zealand was made Senior Case Supervisor; Quentin Hubbard and Russ Meadows were case supervisors under David; and Cathy Cariotaki was made Tech Sec, the executive in charge of the Technical Division, the division that dealt with auditing. Cathy Cariotaki presided over a new ritual that was invented as punishment for auditors who goofed up—the ritual of sacrifice to the goddess Kali, goddess of death and destruction. An alter, with a hideous painting of Kali over it was built in the internship classroom. If an auditor had a bad exam report, the following ceremony would take place in a candlelit room:
A chorus of other interns and auditors would sing a hymn to the goddess Kali, sung to the tune of «Rock of Ages». The offender would come forward and kneel before the alter and say he/she was a worshipper of the goddess Kali and wanted chaos, death and destruction. The person was then given a knife and a fake preclear and told to «stab the preclear», at which time the person had to thrust the knife into the folder. I had to participate in such a ceremony twice. It was very humiliating and upsetting. We all deeply resented what was happening, but nobody dared to speak up or refuse to participate. Such refusal would probably result in getting kicked off the ship in disgrace, a fate worse than any punishment. By that time, I had been so thoroughly indoctrinated in Scientology propaganda, that to be outside of Scientology was to live in a hell on earth and that my soul would be condemned to a very low level of existence for all eternity. Ultimately, I had to go along with any punishment that was meted out, although, at times, I fought hard against it. I became known as a troublemaker on the ship, because if I saw something I didn't like, I spoke up. I got into trouble more times than anyone on the ship, it seemed. There was still a part of me that had not been conquered that was fighting the manipulation inflicted upon us and that part of me was furious. Here I was on Flag, having reached a goal I had worked very hard for and that dream had become a living hell. I was emotionally, mentally and spiritually devastated.
This devastation took its toll on me for years after leaving the group. When I first joined, I had been a bright, adventurous 18-year-old with high ideals and shining goals on the horizon of my life. I was willing to give my all to achieving those goals. I just didn't take no for an answer. If I had channeled all that energy into a legitimate career for myself, I would have been well on my way to a happy, rewarding life. However, all that vital energy was sucked up into the whirlpool of a cult, dominated by a madman. I was drained. To me, subconsciously, success and achievement of my goals meant devastation because that is what happened to me when I achieved my goals in Scientology. For years after leaving Scientology, I couldn't seem to get any sort of career off the ground. I would start to pursue something, but never follow through. It is only now that I am getting counselling from people who understand cult phenomena that I am able to see what happened to me, put my life back together and get on with it.
Fortunately, there was a healthy part of me that fought very hard to stay alive and was never completely killed, but there was also my cult identity, which was equally strong. My cult identity condemned the healthy part of me for my outbursts. I was constantly asking myself, «What's wrong with me?» «Why is it that everyone else seems so content with their life on the ship and I feel so angry? There is something very wrong with me, and I have got to wipe it out.»
Years later when I read accounts of other people in the same predicament, I realized that I was not the only one on the ship who was unhappy; I just expressed it more than other people. Recently, I spoke with a woman who was one of the top auditors on Flag and has since left Scientology. She never got into trouble, but, according to what she said, she was not happy with the situation on Flag. She hated the Kali ceremonies. To deal with it, she told herself that it wouldn't last. The Kali ceremonies didn't last for long, but there was always another atrocity to replace the earlier ones.
It always amazed me and other people on the ship that I got away with saying so much without getting kicked out. One person who couldn't stand me commented that I seemed to have «nine lives» and that I should have been kicked out long ago. It never happened, however. Even when I left, I was invited to come back a year later with no ethics penalties. I have a theory as to why this was the case. Several years after leaving the group, I took a course on family therapy. I learned that in dysfunctional families, there is one member of the family who has symptoms and acts out, while the rest of the family might seem normal. That person, usually a child, is seen as the sick one. Perhaps the child has attempted suicide, has a drug problem, or is having trouble in school. What is actually happening, according to this theory, is that the child's behavior is a symptom of a dysfunction that exists in the family, as a whole. By working with the entire family, the child's problems can be greatly alleviated. I think that this theory can be applied to dysfunctional groups, i.e., cults. Cults seem to have a few people around that constantly cause trouble and speak their mind, but don't get kicked out. I was playing such a role in Scientology. I was considered a troublemaker and, therefore, sick. In reality, however, I was really only manifesting symptoms that were due to dysfunctional group. The group, as a whole, seemed to have a need to have someone around to act out what, deep down, everyone was feeling. This is one reason why my behavior was so upsetting to people in the group. I was expressing what they felt, but didn't want to admit to feeling, but at the same time, the group needed for me to express these feelings. My expression served as an outlet for the group as a whole.
I observed this same phenomenon at work on a recent Sally Jessy Raphael show on the Hare Krishnas. There was a woman on who was a former member, who was always considered a troublemaker in the group. There were members of the Hare Krishnas in the audience, one of whom commented to the woman, «You always did exactly as you wanted in the group.» The woman answered that she felt she had been the only one to speak up when she saw atrocities occurring, such as child abuse. It appears that she played a similar role to the one I played in Scientology. I would like to look at other groups to see if this phenomenon exists.
Expressing emotions on behalf of the entire group did not make life easy for me, to say the least. Things continued to get worse for me. One night, around midnight, I had just fallen asleep when we were all awakened and told we were to go to the classroom and write letters to the paying public, telling them about how great things were on Flag and to invite them to come to the ship for auditing. After all I had been through with the Kali ceremonies and other nonsense over the past few months, promoting Flag was the last thing I wanted to do! This was the last straw for me. I completely lost control of my temper and blurted out, «If I wrote the truth about how things were here, nobody would want to come to Flag.» I was immediately assigned a condition of Treason by Cathy Cariotaki. To speak in such a blasphemous way about the home of L. Ron Hubbard was considered an act of Treason to the group. Free speech was not a right we enjoyed. I had to wear a red armband, identifying me as a traitor to the group and do amends in the galley. Making a statement such as the one I had made was unthinkable to most people in the group, but, deep down, I think many people were feeling the same way I was, but didn't dare admit it, even to themselves.