I would be here if I could, but I got sick aged 30 and have been housebound, mostly bedbound, for four years. A virus triggered Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, a severely disabling energy-limiting illness that affects every aspect of my life. I can no longer work, cook, walk, run, or see my friends. Hundreds of thousands of people in the UK have this illness, yet we are missing from view, at home alone in our beds. Biomedical research has been drastically underfunded and there are no approved treatments. Green Man festival is just one of many places I am missing from.
I have been here five times in the past, I loved this festival. I have many happy memories here, seeing so many brilliant bands and musicians across many different genres. Dancing to Hot Chip with all my friends. Walks along the river. The clouds hanging low over the mountain behind the main stage. Making plans to climb the mountain, which never come to fruition after all the late nights enjoyed in the festival; the food, the mix of rain and sun that seems to always produce at least one rainbow per festival, drinking brandy chai as the Green Man burns.
It feels like a different lifetime now. Even listening to music can be too much for my body.
I am so grateful I got to experience it all, yet I hold so much grief for it too. I miss my life. I didn’t realise how lucky I was until it was all taken away.
I’ve read about the festival’s excellent disability access arrangements, and I dream of the day I can return. But the truth is, no amount of accessibility or mobility aids make it possible for my body to produce more energy, to be upright, to tolerate the sounds and the smells.
Please enjoy the festival for me as much as you can, but please keep me and all the millions missing in mind.
