j4 | Glast-oh-no

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Glast-oh-no

Yeah, I know I posted about the ticket, but to be honest, right now I really just don't want to go to Glastonbury at all. It's forecast to rain all next week; okay, there's a slim possibility of occasional patches of sun towards the end of the festival, but by that time the site will be buried under six feet of mud anyway. Last time the floods were apocalyptic but once it'd finished the six-hours-of-non-stop-rain it was sunny for most of the rest of the weekend, and wading through mud in sunshine is considerably less awful than wading through mud in the pouring rain and cold. And the mud means that it takes about an hour to get from A to B for any values of A and B, and by the time you get anywhere you just feel like throwing yourself into a lake (so it's fortunate that by that point your only options are "throw yourself into a lake forwards" or "throw yourself into a lake backwards").

Not only that, but at this rate I'm quite likely to have my period all the way through the festival. So, up to my waist in mud, constantly aching and bloated and miserable, needing to go to the loo every 30 minutes but having to queue for three hours in the rain in order to get into a toilet which is covered in poo. (Please don't tell me how fucking marvellous the mooncup is: the mere thought of it makes me feel queasy and dizzy; furthermore, there is no way I am trying to cope with something like that for the first time in a tent, in a toilet with no door, in a poo-smeared chemical toilet, or in the middle of a bloody field in the rain. Also, please don't tell me that periods are a blessed gift from the goddess: being poked in the eyes with forks often offends.) ETA: AND I AM NOT GOING BACK ON THE PILL, not even for a minute, because it's really not going to help the situation if I'm suicidal and psychotic and generally so crazy that even my partner tells me I'm a dangerous mental case who should be locked up or put out of its misery.

ALSO, I am tired all the time, I feel fat and ugly, I still can't do most of the things I'm supposed to be doing in my job, I feel guilty every day when I look around my friends and realise that any one of them could do my job a hundred times better than me and really the job should have gone to one of them or somebody equally talented; even if I can learn it all in a few years, any one of them could already do it all now. And all the people who say "but you are good at everything!" don't actually know. This much is evident from the things they accuse me of being good at. I'm sick and tired of having the sort of conversation where people say to me "But you're really good at rocket science! But you invented the internet! But you made such a good prime minister!" and I have to refute all their frankly ludicrous claims, which just makes me feel worse about myself. The other version of that sort of conversation is the one where they say "But you can do all sorts of things! I mean ... well, you make a nice cup of tea! And you wrote a good essay once, when you were 10! It had all the right punctuation and everything!" I'm honestly not sure which is worse.

Please do NOT follow up with "well I think your really nice anyway lol :) :)" or equivalent, because that will just make me scream.

And I feel like a Bad Girlfriend as well as a Useless Person.

addedentry is going from strength to strength in his job and in everything else as well; every day he gets better at everything he does, at this rate he will probably be Bodley's Librarian by the age of 35, I should be bursting with pride every time I look at him, but I find it so hard to keep on feeling happy for him as he gets cleverer and more talented and more attractive and it even seems like he's getting taller, while I just get older and fatter and uglier and more and more stupid.

The worst of it is being self-aware enough to know that a gazillion tediously self-obsessed spotty teenage goths are saying all the same things on their livejournals. Knowing that doesn't take away the leaden feeling though. And at their age there's at least a chance that they'll grow out of it. I believe that one's never too old to change and grow and learn, but in my case the evidence so far suggests otherwise.

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Norethisterone delays the period for anything between 2 and 28 days with no side-effects that I'm aware of (one small daily pill, pretty neat). You've enough time left to see a GP for it if the thought appeals. It's usually prescribed for honeymoons and other similarly-awkward examples of bad timing.

I always used to hoard the pill, which meant that up until a year ago I could use it to hold off periods for ten days or so when convenient (out of date pills work fine for this, but I wouldn't rely on them for fertility control). Now of course I've run out and they won't prescribe me any more because it's no longer thought appropriate for a woman of my age and girth, but if I were in any way expecting to have to spend a critical week at a flooded Glastonbury I would beg, borrow or steal a pack from anywhere, really.

Unfortunately I think I already chucked out the spare half-packet of pills of the brand I no longer take, but I think you definitely need to throw yourself into the mud backwards, not forwards. I mean, getting mud out of hair, not teeth -- got to be easier, right?

If it's any consolation at all, we seem to be on much the same cycle. But I won't be in the mud, I'll be being a boring old fart and watching the TV coverage. Go applaud the Killers for me?

I know, I know. But I still love you!

First of all, I feel your woe as regards the pill. I can't use it either, it makes me fat, super-grumpy, spotty, cramp-ridden, horrendous guts-wise and gives me the worst headaches known to mankind. I am very thankful that they've discovered better MAPs that don't make me throw up immediately.

Secondly thanks to the benevolent moon goddess (grrr) I have had to endure the worst bits of the month during Glastonbury and/or Reading for the last 7 years, being at the end of the month as both of them are. And it wasn't *that* bad, really - that Friday in 2005 when I really needed to get to the loo upon waking up and there was a big fvck off river in the way...well, I just had some beer and a 'festival fag' for breakfast, strapped my boots on and went for a paddle. It always seems worse than it actually is, and the drop-down loos are fine once you get used to the doors not locking. What's the worst that could happen? Will the brilliance of Being On Holiday outweigh it?

I know, sort of what you're going through, but from the other end. (no, not the period bit, we passed all that years back. I got married to a menopausal woman, must need my head examined.)
The new job is going great, I'm going ahead in leaps and bounds, settled in really well. Jill, OTOH, isn't quite finding it as easy. She's not finding t that hard, but at the same time, she's not as confident in her job, or as good as she expects to be. Every time I come home saying how good everything is going just seems to depress her. She's saying the same ""older and fatter and uglier and more and more stupid."" that you are.
She's not sure whether she's more annoyed at me for handling it so well, or herself for not handling it. All I can tell her, is probably the same thing I can tell you. neither of you are stupid, and I'm far too scared of both of you to even think on commenting about the rest of it. It's a blip. Eventually it'll all catch up with you, and you'll be wondering what all the fuss is about, you just can't let your head drop. Keep at it, it'll come right.

Unfortunately I can't help with rain, mud, pills and periods. Apparently having a baby is good for dealing with the last two..but there are certain other permanent issues attached to them.

As regarding your self-worth, I find that happiness is found overcoming ones own failings. We all have our strengths and our failings. We should build on our strengths and try to learn from our mistakes. The beauty of what we are is that we all have the capacity to learn and change. After a rather shakey period that lasted around five years, I became aware of what I was and then became the real 'me'. If I'd really seen it sooner, then it would not have taken anywhere that long..!

I'm not the cleverest person I know. I'm not the most attractive. I'm not rich. I can cook, I can do science, I know computers. One thing I do know, is that compared to most people I know..on the whole I am happy..and I do like to help people be happy people to. This goes beyond merely shovelling on the complements. It's a process of knowing who you are.

Take the time out to find the real Janet. I can see glimpses of her through the forest as she darts through the trees, but you'll need to chase after her to catch her..

I've always enjoyed your lifejournal entries. The one with the picture of the tickets made me laugh and certainly made a grim and depressing day full of bad news considerably more bearable. Believe you me, that was one thing that made a real difference to me.. :D

I think you countered most of the things I could have said (which I'm glad of because I wouldn't have realised how much they'd piss you off) but I wanted to say I would NOT suggest the mooncup for festivals, oh god no. I only use mine at home really, because I need to rinse it out regularly, and you just can't do that in a public loo cubicle unless it has a sink and then you have to feel guilty for using the disabled one. I use it when I can be sure of changing it mostly at home, which I find much easier. But tbh I still use the eco-death stuff most of the time.

Periods suck. Fortunately mine has mostly stopped kicking my arse. Hope yours is kind to you when it happens.

How are you getting there? If all is as feared, could you just leave?

Hugely with you on the whole `but you invented rocket science' thing. I go through bouts of great insecurity about maths, and having non-mathematicians who know nothing about it say `you're a genius' is exceptionally unhelpful. I recommend people who say little but give you big a hug.

Spending a week bleeding and waiting for the loo in the rain and cold doesn't sound appealing, and I don't mind the rain as much as most.

Is it too late/too expensive to try and stay in a nearby B&B? I have no idea of the feasibility of this, but having a quiet/warm/dry space to retreat to might salvage the experience somewhat. Failing that, how would you feel about going and then coming home early if it turns out to be completely awful?

Chamomile tea is a wonder drug for me with cramps; I go from being miserable and curled up into a little ball with pain to being able to carry on a conversation with human beings. I don't know how much of the effect on my mood is due to the pain relief and how much is due to possible calming effect of the chamomile. It's worth a try, though, and if you don't like the tea or it's too inconvenient, tincture is available (try health food shops and Neal's Yard CG).

I don't think I'd want to use a mooncup in a place with questionable sanitation, either, and I'm not a first-time user.

Worst of all, I learnt this morning that Michael "upside-downy head" Eavis is receiving a knighthood for his part in this annual cocking shambles. I recommend making your feelings known here:

http://newsforums.bbc.co.uk/nol/thread.jspa?threadID=6624&&&edition=1&ttl=20070616143332

You could go, with the promise to yourself that if it does turn out to be horrible then you'll just go home again? I've told myself that the last couple of times (my specific concern is about having to stand up too much, if it's very wet, & buggering my knees up AGAIN. Which I did very badly in 1998.) & it's not yet been necessary, but having already given myself a get-out clause is useful. I have also told myself very firmly that it is entirely OK to spend 5 days in a field and *not* bother trudging through the mud repeatedly, if I don't want to, just find a tent in the Greenfields that does chai & sit there for the duration talking to people.

FWIW, I've been feeling a bit anxious (not entirely sure why - partly I think I'm just *tired*) but saw the Glastonbury documentary whatsit last night & got overexcited :-) So hopefully getting onsite will have a similar effect.

In not-useful-now-but-might-potentially-be-for-the-future news: you mentioned getting really depressed as a PMT symptom. After I came off the implant I started getting very very depressed (non-stop weeping, SI thoughts) on the first day of my period. Started taking Evening Primrose Oil daily & it has knocked it on the head, mostly (still get a bit bleargh but nothing more than that). Dunno if you've ever tried it, or would be prepared to (& I know that the clinical trials that have been conducted are at best inconclusive - for myself I don't really care if it *is* a placebo effect as long as it works, which it does!) but thought I would mention it.

Talk to Owen, as another suggested up there [waves hands at comments].
I bet he doesn't think you are useless. If you were he'd not be so successful; it's amazing what being happy with his partner will do for a man, and you are obviously making his life enhanced and lovely.

Objectively you are not fat. I know it doesn't help to hear that but it's true.

I don't think feckering about with your hormones is a good idea at all, you are right, but I do think that raspberry leaf tea is refreshing and cheering, and that often a banana a day, with the potassium it adds to your bloodstream, is a huge balancer of energy and emotions.

I am paying the bill from hell myself at the moment and I will join you in eye-forking anyone who natters at us about gifts from the goddess. They can take themselves to the ditch behind a drop loo and revel in the swimming pool gifted to them from above, AFAIC.

They just CAN, OK? [sfx: crockery and a piano hurled into a skip from a great height]

*hug* The festival we were at got rained on vigorously, and that sucked somewhat.

In the end, you don't have to go, and you don't have to stay for the whole time if you don't want to. Allowing yourself to say "sod this, I'm going home", rather than "shit, I spent loads of GBP to come here, I must stay" might be cunning.

I don't think the emo ever really goes away, you know. Some people pretend it's not going on, some channel the energy of it into other things and some people seem to squeeze it into concentrated and privately expressed moments of extreme emotion, but...well, we're people, we feel things. Stuff like the Glastonbury festival is unusual and hyped up and excting, and combined with how you're feeling about yourself and about having your period and so on, well. I know it's going to sound rubbish and trite and reassure-y, but I'm going to say it anyway - it's totally normal to be feeling like this. It's not teenage or silly and you have an absolute RIGHT to all your emotions. That's the first thing.

But arrgh, yeah. I've been so nervous about Glastonbury that yesterday I ended up actually throwing things around the living room in a big angry panic. I'm not sure if I'll have my period or not (having totally lost track, well done Gemma) but I am worried about not feeling well, not being strong and positive enough to stand up to bad weather, not being able to cope without Iain there, falling out with my friends etc etc etc.

However! Now the day's drawing closer (I'm leaving at like 7.30 on Wednesday) I've worked through a lot of worst case scenario-ing, and I'm feeling a bit better. It's what I do for everything, imagining all the crap things that can happen and all the responses. 'What if I get ill?' There are doctors. 'What if my camping mates hate me?' Text other people you know are there. 'What if I totally spin out and it's all horrid?' Drink more/go to the tiny tea tent or cinema or something/if all else fails go home.

Also, I have already bought myself some wellies, which are very reassuring, cos I remember last time I was at a rainy Glastonbury just bursting into tears cos I REALLY needed the toilet but there was a vast puddle between me and the loos. I had no wellies then, and now I have some it's like they're psychic defence as well as actually (hopefully) useful. I've got myself lots of little reassuring things to take with too - new body spray, rescue remedy, lavender oil. Maybe you could try and do that, like think of things to take that might protect you from the full possible bad things that might happen. Particularly with the period situation - it might be worth planning for emergency non-loo tent-based cherry changing strategies, and (as I'm sure you've considered, I know you're not silly) making sure you've got loads of wet wipes and painkillers and so on so on.

The way I'm figuring it - worst comes to worst, I can always just stay in my tent and read a book. I am so easily overwhelmed and Glastonbury is almost the definition of overwhelming (and magic!) in lots of ways, and sometimes the best and safest response to that is to step out for a bit and calm down. If it rains really loads or if you're feeling awful then you can squirrel youself away in a sleeping bag for a bit until the bad moment passes. No one but no one is capabable of having full on! festival! fun! for the whole duration and no one will judge you for taking it easy.

One final point, though - the first time I went to Glastonbury (and I've only been twice) I went with a school friend and we were only 17 and were TERRIFIED the entire time. There was rain and there were so many people and we'd never been away on holiday without our families before, and the thing that kept us going was Queen Bodicea, cos it was like 'look at us in the mud with all our clothes a mess and carrying millions of things and getting into a panic - Queen Bodicea wouldn't have worried about it! She'd just have charged off and done some big battles!' Of course in a way this only served to make us feel even more rubbish and modern-womany, but in another way it did help us to develop a whole 'ach, fvck it, we're here. Onward!' type of mentality.

Anyway, blah. You are cool and sensible and you know this stuff - in a way I'm just writing it to calm myself down and to let you know I'm thinking about it and thinking about you.

You have my phone number, right? If you feel like being Bodicea with me, or sitting wrapped in blankets having a cup of tea, then do send me a text. I might not be able to find you but I'll try.

Janet for PM!

All this angst... Some of us can trudge through sewage and get paid for it.

Did it work out at least broadly OK in the end? Or are you still trapped in a huge lake of mud in parts Somerset?

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TMI comment, all people who are not Janet ignore this pls

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A smug bastard writes...

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