I remember a New Year's Eve party where all the young people from my church group attended. One young lady decided to get all depressed and negative, not long before midnight. As one who had gone through a bit of a conversion experience and had realised that there was no mileage from anyone's point of view in being a wet rag, I had a go at her and told her to snap out of it and get with the programme and not drag everyone else down. Everyone attacked me as a hypocrite. They told me what a depressive bastard I was and how dare I counsel her otherwise! I crawled away and felt: this is just how important I am to all these people! I wanted to die - I seriously contemplated slitting my own throat - I'd never felt such rejection before! That young lady went on to reject the church and joined a bikie gang and later was killed in a bike accident - I've yet to receive an apology from those who rejected me in her favour, 16 years later!
Actually, I did receive such rejection (on a monumental scale) one time before. I went to a church young peoples' camp. On the last day of that camp, the leader of the Young Peoples' group had a bright idea: we'll all pray for one another! However, it had a twist: he would pray for someone, who would pray for someone else who would then pray for someone else. The last person would pray for Bob (the young peoples' leader). I thought: Great! (not realising just how hated I really was), Person after person prayed for every other person but me (about 70 young persons were at that camp). When the last person thought that they were the last who mattered prayed, they prayed for Bob. Bob realised I'd been left out entirely and prayed for me (God bless Bob - he never liked me much, but he really tried to be fair to me - too bad those other bastards never had that attitude!) I lasted 6 years in that religion - long enough to see many of those who hadn't prayed for me and left me out of the circle of those-who-mattered leave and turn their backs on God forever, while I slogged loyally (if never spectacularly) on. When I finally left, it was to marry my white-witch wife (who later became a Christian because of my influence). I was rejected by even my best friend; I was to be best man at his wedding, but because of my current girlfriend (later my wife), he entertained doubts, fueled by those who were advising him ("You don't want Satan represented at your wedding, do you?", they said) Fortunately, for once in his life he followed through with one of his promises and made me best man. He died at the age of 37. I still miss him
Yes, I'm unpopular. Unfortunately, I'm me, and I'm the only me I can be. I'm sorry if that offends you!
