My Not So Secret Diary

Missed Experiences

Missed Experiences outdoors blowing bubbles with my son and writing for my blog My Not So Secret Diary by Claire Hatwell
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.
Claire x