The rains of autumn have certainly arrived today even as August still holds on. Steady rain and a chill in the air mark this Sunday here in Hertfordshire. After a difficult night and waking up anxious about work I have managed to do some things around the flat, lift my mood, put the anxiety to one side and at least try to enjoy this holiday weekend.
Yesterday I attended my friend James's stag do in London. I only stayed a few hours. But it go me thinking. Why would you dress up your closest friend in full body suit, a gimp mask and a Donald Trump hat to humiliate him just as he is getting ready for what should be the best day of his life? Is it because he in turn had done the same when others got married? That tit for tat makes me feel uneasy.
English boarding schools in the 1970s and 1980s could be pretty brutal places. Horrific initiations, institutionalised bullying and a culture that what was done to me must be done to you were so prevalent. Like all other boys I just wanted to fit in. And thus we self perpetuated the puerile stupidity of entitlement and privilege.
On my dark days my mind sometimes drifts back to those days. Yes I survived and in many ways boarding suited me but I'm ashamed of who I was in those days. And it all comes flooding back in a wave of self loathing and fraudulence that depression bequeaths me. I'm sure James will remember yesterday in fond ways but it doesn't seem a very kind thing to do to one's friends.
I will not dwell on what was if I can help it. What is done is done. For now I must try to acknowledge that I'm on holiday, the world hasn't fallen apart, I have my opera, my books and my cooking. For today that is Cosi fan Tutte, slow roast lamb shank with home made mint sauce and a venture into Goodbye to Berlin a little later. I plan to meet Alyssa at The Waggoners for a pint after the Mozart.
For those of you out do enjoy the holiday weekend despite the rain.
I Heard a Voice.
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