The Glastonbury blues aren’t fictional. They’re a living, breathing horror. And they usually don’t set in until the day after you get back. Lugging a massive bag out of Worthy Farm, that’s fine. Hopping on a coach with a hundred smelly strangers – that’s ok, so long as you get a really greasy meal at a service station. Arriving home just before midnight is glossed over by that first hot shower and deep sleep after getting back.
No, it’s not until life’s supposed to go back to normal when the Glasto blues really kick in. Being made to wake up at 8am again, going back to school or work, forced to pretend that everything is absolutely fine and your head doesn’t feel like it’s a broken poached egg folded in on itself. Watching Glastonbury highlights on iPlayer doesn’t help. Talking to mates about what a brilliant time you had is impossible. Those festival highs are a distant memory, and all you can focus on is remembering how to eat actual food again.
Pretty much everyone who went to Glastonbury is feeling incredibly fragile right now.
Anyone witnessing Glasto-goers returning home first-hand will know these people don’t look ok. They’re shells of humanity. There’s no hope for them.
There's some seriously broken Glastonbury people at Paddington Station right now
— Chris Stark (@Chris_Stark) June 26, 2017
Kid yourself that the Glasto blues are a myth, they’ll kick in eventually.
What I have learned since #Glastobury2017:
1) the Glasto blues are real and terrible
2) it is possible to live off of crisps and cider— Kezzy Holman (@KezzyHolman) June 27, 2017
They can be staved off for a few hours if you continue the sesh and act like life is one big party. But they will find you.
https://twitter.com/Eleanorgribb/status/879466266158911488
Especially if that already grim journey home turns into a nightmare.
Nothing kills the Glasto afterglow and ups the hangover like 9 hours in a full coach, then missing a flight and not getting to go home yet.
— Laura ? (@__lauraface) June 26, 2017
Painkillers, 12-hour sleeps, the most nutritious meal in the world – not even these can save you.
Popped 4 ibuprofen at work to try and sort my head out from glasto and I've fallen asleep twice at my desk already getting terrored here
— Broods (@broodybaby) June 27, 2017
Imagine the most awful hangover in the world, multiply it by ten, and then go to work. GOOD LUCK!
Why the fuck did I not book the day after glasto off work?! Send help xo
— Hannah-Lily (@HannahSpowart) June 27, 2017
Abbie made the wise move of booking today off work, but even she’s struggling.
https://twitter.com/abbiewedge/status/879643981835096065
Remember those halcyon days when putting on shoes, making a cup of tea and drinking water wasn’t an absolute, colossal struggle? Nope, us neither.
I kid you not Glastonbury has broken me… I'm wandering round the house like slender man
— Molly Jarrett (@MollyJarrett) June 27, 2017
Don’t worry Scott, this is completely routine.
Is this post-Glasto bodyache normal? My body feels battered after a night in a proper bed #Glastonbury
— Scott Woodthorpe (@ScottWoodthorpe) June 27, 2017
RIP
Welcome to Dismaland pic.twitter.com/ncVwPIxHcd
— Thom (@thomdenson) June 27, 2017
Glasto blues are so wild, people are even missing the awful bits.
not waking up with a bad back in a field is making me well sad #glastoblues
— erin taylor (@erintay99) June 27, 2017
Seeds are most definitely not the answer.
https://twitter.com/Liv_Mellersh/status/879377100255506432
Good luck everyone. At some point, everything will go back to normal. One day.