This man is or was seriously depressed would be my snap diagnosis. He describes the nightmare of the convivial school/ nursery gates world so well - at least I wasn't the only shrinking, horrified scurrier away from the conversations and arrangements that were made. Usually I had to rush off to work anyway, but I shared the terrible blackness that descended on me whenever I had to attend a school / child focused social occasion. Luckily I was able to palm them off on my wife, but sometimes I had to go. Here's a paragraph from a lengthy and painful description of a four or three years old's birthday that he had to attend with his wife and children:
"The thought of going in and sitting at the kitchen table again was not exactly appealing, so I opened the bathroom door, locked it behind me and stood there motionless for a few minutes. Then washed my face in cold water, dried it carefully on a white towel and met my eyes in the mirror, so dark and in a face so rigid with frustration I almost started with alarm at the sight."
Knausgaard, Karl Ove (2013-04-25). A Man In Love: My Struggle Book 2 (My Struggle 2) (Kindle Locations 694-696). Random House. Kindle Edition.
It's a point of horrified self-recognition, and it's the second time I've used horrified in this post, because the feeling is that strong. What have you become when you cannot bear the sight and sound of these good, friendly ordinary people?
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