We were watching the Glastonbury Experience the other night, the shows they put on because the event itself was cancelled. I don’t know if you saw it, but it was nice to see the Pyramid Stage set up in the background but with some acoustic music playing and a couple of socially distanced presenters sitting on hay bales while they talked about it. It was a lovely atmosphere and watching the sun set while the music played was beautiful. It made me reminisce a little about the past and I imagined one day going to something like that again.
Talking to my daughter Katie while we watched, she mentioned some friends had been to a local festival and was excited to tell me about it. It got me thinking and I remembered that years before we had tickets to go ourselves. They weren’t just any tickets either, but the full VIP works. My husband had done a favour for the organisers and received them as a thank you. There were enough for us and the kids to go too. I didn’t know much about the festival then and I didn’t realise it was as big an event as it was. I just remember being scared because it was out of my routine and comfort zone. I didn’t want to camp because I was nervous, but in all honesty I was more nervous about not being able to drink at home like I did every other night, and being limited to what we could take in or buy there.
Would you believe that my worries and trepidation stopped us going? I can’t remember what excuse I made, but I got out of it and we wasted those tickets because I would have rather be at home with a drink. Not that I told anyone that. It was selfish of me and I am ashamed of it, of my behaviour, not that it makes a difference to anything now.
The only time I remember being comfortable staying out was when a friend of ours threw a mini-festival on their property. They did it in the summer every year and it was a relaxed free for all. Everyone took tents and alcohol, kids and dogs ran free, bands played and people drank. It was fun and I felt at home, so it didn’t worry me. It was one of the few occasions where I could relax when I was out.
I hate the fact that I prioritised wine to experiences back then. It wasn’t a conscious decision, more an underlying worry, a need to get a drink and a resolve to get it by any means possible, even if that meant not doing things. But I kick myself now, at all the things I missed, or rushed, or wasn’t present for, because I couldn’t face up to my problem.
I can’t get the time I lost back, I can’t fix it, but I can move forward with more awareness and make sure that I don’t do it again. Now when I find things hard, I push myself to try to do them. It isn’t always easy, but I hope that the more I push myself, the easier it will become. I want to enjoy things, and I want to do it without worry, but for now I’m just going to focus on the doing. I wasted enough time, and I don’t want to look back with any more regret.
Take care and thanks as always for reading.