I have already written about young Bethelites, in an earlier post, but there's more . . . always more:
We young Bethel brothers were homesick, feeling all the hormonal emotions a kid experiences. Serving Jehovah and the so-called people of good will -- bringing them into the fold -- helped allay our unfulfilled yearnings. Well, as long as we were busy, and, except for those furtive hours of scant sleep, we were on the go nonstop.
Many of us had breakdowns, even though Bethel HQ did recognize our need for recreation, providing onsite facilities: bowling, basketball, etc. That's what I recall. However, my friends and I in the foreign language congregations were way too busy to unwind. One of my friends, perhaps the hardest working of all, often came home late an night from an assignment and collapsed on his bed in his street clothes. Several of us hardworking kids wound up in the infirmary, quit assignments, ran away, attempted suicide, left for good . . .
I don't believe my fellow Bethelites were as emotionally damaged as I, given my own family history; but the relentless giving and giving will take its toll -- on anyone.
And, I repeat: FOG, FOG, FOG, . . .