My Scientologist Neighbor Thinks I’m Depressed
This morning, as I stepped onto my sun-soaked porch to breathe in the possibilities that await us all each new day, I found a hand-written note from my neighbor that began, “Not to imply anything but…” Inside the note was a picture of a crying woman next to the word “Depression…”
It was a flier for a Scientology seminar on depression. He didn’t share this particular flier with any of the other neighbors. I checked.
Please tell me what your response to this would’ve been. Mine was to wonder just exactly how pathetic do I appear to the outside world? Until today I thought I was doing a fairly good job keeping my shit together, publicly anyway. Each day I greet my neighbors with big smiles, “Good morning, Marjorie! Is it fall yet? This heat is wild!” We don’t have a Marjorie here, but I like to think that’s my general demeanor. I keep my sad, weird messes behind closed doors, or in my blog. And yet, Scientology Aldo in bungalow 8 thinks I am severely depressed. I know that Scientology recruiting is very common, but this specific method feels weirdly invasive.
The rest of the note was also troubling. Aldo tried to recruit my mom into Scientology a couple of years ago when she visited. My mother is very friendly and didn’t know that he was a Scientologist when he invited her to his “church.” I explained to her that he was about to start the auditing process, so she politely declined his offer. In his letter today he wrote,
“Just know your mother lost her opportunity to find out.”
Lost her opportunity? To find out what?? That you all are even creepier than I thought??? Here is the inside of the flier.
After reading the flier, I think he meant the “opportunity” to hear Colonel Dr. Bart Billings rail against psychiatric drugs. The Colonel Doctor, as I like to call him, has received “numerous awards,” one or two I assume from Tom Cruise himself! The one and only Lorraine Jossel will also be there to further explain why you don’t need medicine for any of your illnesses. There’s a vitamin store on Fountain she can refer you to for your cancer. Just give their gal Betsy a call and she’ll reserve ya a seat.
After a lot of thought, really just so much thought and consideration, I’ve decided to pass on this particular seminar. Instead, I’ve reserved our building’s courtyard tonight for a screening of the latest Bridget Jones installment “Bridget Jones’s Baby.” I thought about printing fliers and inviting the neighbors, but my depression was far too crippling.
