Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology

296 Pages·2016·5.48 MB·English

by  Leah Remini

Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Epigraph
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Photo Insert
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Author
In a time of universal deceit—telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
Let me start with this:
I am an apostate.
I have lied. I have cheated. I have done things in my life that I am not proud
of, including but not limited to:
• falling in love with a married man nineteen years ago
• being selfish and self-centered
• fighting with virtually everyone I have ever known (via hateful emails,
texts, and spoken words)
• physically threatening people (from parking ticket meter maids to parents
who hit their kids in public)
• not showing up at funerals of people I loved (because I don’t deal well
with death)
• being, on occasion, a horrible daughter, mother, sister, aunt, stepmother,
wife (this list goes on and on).
The same goes for every single person in my family:
• My husband, also a serial cheater, sold drugs when he was young.
• My mother was a self-admitted slut in her younger days (we’re talking the
1960s, before she got married).
• My dad sold cocaine (and committed various other crimes), and then
served time at Rikers Island.
Why am I revealing all this? Because after the Church of Scientology gets
hold of this book, it may well spend an obscene amount of money running ads,
creating websites, and trotting out celebrities to make public statements that their
religious beliefs are being attacked—all in an attempt to discredit me by
disparaging my reputation and that of anyone close to me. So let me save them
some money. There is no shortage of people who would be willing to say “Leah
can be an asshole”—my own mother can attest to that. And if I am all these
things the church may claim, then isn’t it also accurate to say that in the end,
thirty-plus years of dedication, millions of dollars spent, and countless hours of
study and training didn’t really “fix” me? Perhaps Scientology doesn’t work.
—
SINCE I LEFT THE CHURCH of Scientology in 2013, I am often asked the question
“How does someone like you get involved with an organization like
Scientology?” Or some people may phrase it more like “How the fuck did you
get into some crazy shit like this?”
Describing Scientology is no easy undertaking for anyone. There are plenty
of people (many of whom are smarter than I am and have more formal
education) who have worked to define and examine the church and the sway it
holds over its members. This book, written from my heart and based on personal
knowledge, is my attempt to portray my experience within Scientology and the
repercussions I endured as a result.
So while I may not be able to say in a few brief sentences why I became
involved in Scientology and remained a member for decades, I can tell you that
whether you were raised in the organization or came to it after falling out with
your own religion, traditions, or family, the central tenet of Scientology, as
stated by its founder, L. Ron Hubbard (LRH), is incredibly alluring. Scientology
offers a clearly laid out scientific process that helps you to overcome your
limitations and realize your full potential for greatness. It is presented as a well-
defined path to achieving total spiritual freedom and enlightenment and a full
understanding of yourself and others. LRH wrote that the aims of Scientology
are
“a civilization without insanity, without criminals and without war, where the
able can prosper and honest beings can have rights, and where Man is free to
rise to greater heights.”
He went on to state:
“What is true for you is what you have observed yourself. And when you lose
that, you have lost everything.”
As well as:
“Don’t take my word that Scientology works or doesn’t work, use it and see for
yourself. Take what works and throw away the rest.”
I, along with many others, found these approaches to be hugely empowering.
I was taken with the idea that a deep, systematic, and straightforward wisdom on
how to live the best life for myself (and the planet) could be presented before me
in a direct, tangible, and comprehensive way. Through rigorous study and
regular counseling (called “auditing” in Scientology), I could work toward the
ultimate goal of “going Clear,” meaning I would no longer be affected by the
part of my mind ruled by pain and irrationality. This promise of a higher living
and way of thinking drew me in, along with thousands of others who were
looking for an alternative to therapy or more traditional self-help.
I, like many current Scientologists, was a second-generation practitioner
(meaning you were either born into Scientology or brought in by your parents as
a child). When you are raised in the church, your whole life—each and every
day—becomes all about the church. Unlike members of other churches or
synagogues, who attend Sunday Mass or Shabbat dinner once a week, as a
Scientologist you are expected to spend a minimum of two and a half hours a
day, every day, seven days a week, at church, studying and/or in counseling. The
same goes for your family, friends, and business associates. It’s no wonder the
indoctrination quickly sets up an “us against them” mentality. To leave, to
question it, would mean leaving anything and everything you have ever known.
And because you were raised in the church, your world consists almost
exclusively of Scientologists.
For those who are not born into the church or brought in as children, the
attraction to join is most definitely there. Imagine you are struggling in your life,
in your career, or you are maybe an actor with little or no fame. You walk into a
Scientology church or a Celebrity Centre (a Scientology church that caters
specifically to artists), having been enticed by an ad you read in a magazine
about improving your life or career. You are impressed with the beautiful
building, and the welcoming people there. They offer you food, listen to what
you have to say. Maybe you talk about how your parents are not supportive of
your endeavors, and they respond, “Wow, that is not cool. You can achieve your
goals in life. Maybe you need to step away from your parents’ negativity for a
bit and do a course here that will help you to reach your goals.” You feel
vindicated. This person understands me. He or she is my ally. This group
believes in me. In the real world you may feel like you are nothing, but here you
are treated with respect.
The other aspect of Scientology that draws people in is the recognition the
church bestows on its members for their donations. Let’s say you are a
successful businessperson. Where else would you be pulled up onstage with
crowds cheering in admiration for the million(s) you have donated? You are
doted on by the church at this level, recognized, and made to feel special. Very
enticing. Or what if you are someone who earns $45,000 a year? You’re now
going to be celebrated and acknowledged for your $2,000 contribution (even if
you have no money the church will find a way for you to borrow it) with a
framed certificate in calligraphy certifying your donation. This in turn, again,
makes you feel special. You believe you are doing great things for not only
yourself, but for all of mankind. This type of celebration and recognition works
on members of all levels.
During my thirty-plus years in Scientology I spent close to $2 million for
services and training, and donated roughly $3 million to church causes. Most
members, regardless of their income, over a lifetime in the church spend
upwards of $500,000 to get to the highest levels, which often takes more than
twenty years. During this time, they are required to purchase roughly 300 books,
3000 lectures, and 100 courses.
Scientologists funnel their hard work, money, and emotional capital right
back into the church, often to the detriment of their own lives. They may
sacrifice relationships with family members, contact with friends, and their life
savings to move up through the assigned spiritual levels that are dictated by the
church’s principles. They do this because they’re indoctrinated with the belief
that Scientology has the answers not only to their own ills but to the ills of all
humankind.
—
I HAVE NO DOUBT THAT when this book comes out, Scientologists will scream
about religious intolerance, say that I am a liar, that I was kicked out of the
church, and call Troublemaker the work of a hateful bigot or a self-absorbed
person with an “insatiable craving for attention.” (That last part might not be
totally untrue; I am an actress, after all.) What they will likely not do, however,
is actually read this book, because that would be going against one of the basic
tenets of Scientology. A member should not read or watch anything generated by
someone whom the church has declared a Suppressive Person, or SP, someone
who in the church’s eyes and by LRH’s policy is found to be a threat to
Scientology. Once the church has labeled you an SP, you are “Declared,” and as
a result, you are cut off from all practicing Scientologists.
So I have been declared by the church to be a Suppressive Person because I
questioned, spoke out against, and refused to abide by the hypocrisy that had
become my life. The church has lashed out at me in the press and will continue
to do so, but the reality is that the church has benefited from me, my money, my
time, my celebrity status, and my family. Everything I had dedicated myself to
for all those years was taken away in an instant when I was declared an SP. I was
the one left with the heartbreak of feeling that the unraveling of my faith and
fate, and life as I knew it, was primarily influenced by two people: Tom Cruise,
the church’s most coveted, celebrated, and protected celebrity member, and
David Miscavige, the tyrannical leader and current head of the church.
Ironically, for me and for most other people who have left the church and spoken
out against it, the very qualities that we’ve been penalized for—defying,
questioning, thinking independently—are the same qualities that made us prime
candidates for Scientology in the first place.