The post-Glastonbury effect..................... or Eat, Sleep, Rave, Repeat

 

For literally 2 weeks after the music festival that was Glastonbury 2013, I couldn’t sleep properly. I would wake up convinced I was sleeping/ dancing somewhere in a field, surrounded by people, panicking that they might steal my ipad and wondering why someone (Dave!!!) was sleeping next to me. I was *only* away for 5 nights and I don’t remember waking up whilst I was away in a disorientated manner. On reflection this was probably in part due to be knackered from dancing so much, the booze, that I didn’t use my brain at all whilst away and that some of us didn’t actually sleep too much!!

On reflection, I think it was as a result of my tiny-mind trying to bring the different worlds together and make the experience more ‘normal.’ I joke that I left my brain and 20 years of my life in the car when I arrived – but almost everything was different from how I more usually am.

Before I went, people kept asking which bands I was looking forward to seeing – and I have to be honest that before arriving I hadn’t even had chance to look at the line up! Leading up to departure, my life was busy – its always busy, but running up to the actual day before leaving, I had college coursework to finish and exams to do, work to fit it, the gym to go to, and a very important 7th birthday celebrate!

I had to leave at lunchtime on a Wednesday, which on the day gave me just about enough time to get my legs waxed, pack my stuff into my car and work out which Little Chef car park to meet the others in and drive……….. So I did, and it did me well.

Normally, I’m a planner and a control freak. I like to know what I’m doing, when I’m doing it and with whom. Having secured my ticket, I almost pulled out on 2 clear occasions. Going to a festival (my first for 14 years!) with 6 people (5 of whom I had never met before and the 6th I don’t know very well having worked together around 10 years ago!) was daunting – there was so much to prepare, so much that was uncertain and so much that was ill-defined.

To be honest though, just going with it made the whole experience more  liberating. I could curtail my bossy organisey ways and go with the group flow. The people I met were lovely and properly made the festival for me. Even though they were strangers on day one, I was always made to feel welcome and we looked out for each other – I herded the cats when they were pissed and they helped me not get hopelessly lost whilst untethered. I was reassured that I care for people and that I look out for them - and they did for me.

I didn’t know at any point of the festival where I was – I couldn’t get my bearings, but then I didn’t have to. As long as I didn’t leave everyone I was never lost! For the entire 5 days the most taxing decision I had to make was what to eat and drink (and sometimes I left that to others!) I was literally not responsible for anyone, anything or to anyone for the first time probably in my entire life - and whilst it can be hard for (some) others to hear, for that period of time, I absolutely loved it and was determined to make the most of every single second.

So, almost a month on, what’s stuck with me? what’s turned back to normal? and what would I like to do more of as a result of the experience?

Life has mostly returned to normal and I love my life so that’s not a bad thing.
I am trying to be a bit more open to new people and look for new experiences. Being a bit more 'flowey' meant that I was open to meeting some people I wouldn’t normally have, who were properly awesome and we shared some of THE best times. 

I learnt that I liked things I didn’t know I liked. Like dancing, dance music, being outside and cider. I thought I knew myself pretty well – and I've always, always, always felt awkward and self-conscious dancing. I’ve never been able to do it for the sake of it, because I was feeling the music and because I was having a brilliant time. I've always been more of a ‘propping up the bar’ type – loved going out, but more to chat to friends, having a giggle, often listening to live music but never to dance. And at this time in my life, I really did dance. Literally all night one night, staying to watch Goldie, the very last act of the entire festival starting at 4am on the Sunday night. Who knew I had it in me?!

I also want to take Seb camping. I like it and whilst Dave hates it, it shouldn’t stop us from spending time under canvas – even if it’s in the garden to start with! It should and will be an adventure. I want him to like the outdoors and whilst I suspect it won’t come naturally to him I want it to be part of his childhood. This is one I will need to work on.

Finally, I want to go to Glastonbury again with the festy-crew. To be honest though, if not Glastonbury, some other new exciting thing / festival. I don’t want to go to relive Glastonbury 2013. I want to go again because it can never be the same – but I know it would be superb fun and another adventure in its own right. I loved hanging out with new friends and having new experiences. But the emphasis isn’t on the new – its on the friendships and the experience.

I shall treasure that weekend for those reasons forever. Certainly at least until we can get together for the next one…........... November isn't it?!

Not just a river in Egypt

‘Mrs Tomley, I think you probably have skin cancer’ were not the words I was expecting to hear from the consultant at the hospital earlier this week. I’m not too sure why it came as such a surprise, after all, he was the third doctor to utter something similar to me over the past few months – but surprised I was none-the-less.

Even so, I still think they are wrong, in fact my denial is so strong that I would be prepared to put actual cash on the fact that, even having about 12 years medical training in an area of specialism, that they (yes, all of them!!) don’t know what they are talking about.

My refusal to accept the facts is really interesting (to me at least!!) as I am a person in acceptance of my denial. I know it’s there and I am aware of how utterly convinced I am that I am right and I know that I am doing it. I guess it’s a coping mechanism (that, and the refusal to google skin cancer) because the alternatives – worrying about something I can’t control, which might happen, will hurt and will mark me for life and which maybe bigger and more life altering than all of that – are not an attractive prospect and one which if I thought about it too much would freak the hell out of me.

So, I shall approach it step by step, eating the elephant piece by piece. The next appointment has been made and they’ll take “little biopsy” (it’s obviously not the woman making the appointment’s face!) which will need stitching and then they can come up with some answers and decide what to do next. Interestingly all the ‘options’ so far discussed are to combat skin cancer, and we’ve already established that I don’t have that…….haven’t we!?????