The Positive Impact Bloodstock Has Had on My Mental Health

Bloodstock is next month. Goodness, it feels great to say that. The constant warm weather, the multitude of festivals happening across the world, and an ever-growing line-up of Metal 2 the Masses winners has made the hunger to be back there, stronger than ever.

I think I’m a bit of veteran of Bloodstock. This year being my 9th in a row. I think I have a good handle on what the festival has to offer and what makes it such a great place to be. From what stalls offer the best food, to the best time to use the facilities, to the best spots to stand at the stages and so on.

Yet, that’s not what the focus of this piece is going to be. There are plenty of ‘guides’ and ‘what to do’ at Bloodstock out there. Heck, we’ve written a few over the years ourself. Instead, I want to focus on mental health and the positive impact Bloodstock has on mine. This is completely personal, my experiences alone.

Even typing those words, I get nervous. Who am I to talk about mental health? What issues about myself could I ever highlight that could be in anyway comparable to other’s immense struggles? Who cares, right?

Late 2021 and early 2022, I realised I had a problem and I didn’t like it. I realised that I was suffering quite badly from a combination of social anxiety and imposter syndrome. The latter has always been there is some form of another since we started GBHBL, but it seemed to be getting stronger. Sure, I could put that down to the mild success we had achieved but my feelings on it would fluctuate so wildly, it was terrifying.

One day, I’d think we were really making a difference and our tiny corner of the web was worthwhile. The next day, I’d wonder if we’re seen as a joke. No formal training or qualifications, just an unhealthy love for the scene. Alongside an equally unhealthy love for horror and gaming. I’d be waiting for an email response, a message, a screener and so on, and my mind would wonder why I think I deserve one.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and bloody forth.

The only way I knew how to deal with the negative side of things was to push it out of my mind and just carry on regardless. It helps to have things to focus on and that’s where Bloodstock comes into play.

Oh, I’ve had my fair share of imposter moments at Bloodstock, don’t get me wrong, but over the last nine events I’ve come to feel accepted and part of the experience. Not from a ‘press’ aspect either, but from a general attendee. When I think about the upcoming festival, I don’t think about the bands, the food, the black ice-cream, the stinky toilets or anything else. I think about the people. I think about the faces I see and speak to. So many strangers, yet I feel like I know them all.

I’ve been to a lot of other festivals, and there is nothing like this feeling. I’ll always have a part of me that feels like an imposter but man, oh man, Bloodstock sure goes a long way to helping me feel like part of the family.

Which brings me to the other thing I identified and maybe it’s one that more people can relate to. Perhaps I should have written two different articles as this second one certainly deserves a lot of focus, but I’m in the zone right now, and don’t really want to stop.

Social anxiety. Following lockdowns and a return to the ‘norm’ many people suffered from it and I felt I couldn’t relate. I work in a ‘different’ public facing role and that didn’t stop during the darker times. So, when things began to pick up it wasn’t that unusual for me, or at least I thought it wasn’t.

I began to notice that I would shun big groups, would almost always be on the defence when in a conversation, and often look for ways to end it so I could be on my own. I had always liked people, I kind of had to in my job, but I wondered if I didn’t anymore. It bothered me, but it also made me more defensive than ever.

I started to wonder if I was pretending to be somebody I’m not. That maybe I’m not who I thought I was. That the reason I don’t want to be friendly is because that’s just who I am. Why else would I feel so nervous around people who are just being people?

This bothered me. So, I started to look into what I was feeling, what triggered it and what eased it. There were a number of things for both, but notably I found that Bloodstock was often a major moment where I found both my anxiety eased and my enjoyment of people was at its highest. The weeks leading up, being at the festival itself, and the weeks afterwards had me in a state of buoyancy.

…but of course, that isn’t going to last. It sounds so stupid, but realising this, really helped me break through this barrier that had been erected seemingly out of nowhere. I started to stop pretending everything was ok, and accepted that I actually did suffer from social anxiety. That being nervous around people wasn’t that big of deal. That if I was genuinely feeling uncomfortable, I could step away from the environment and not beat myself up for it.

Instead, I started to congratulate myself for even getting that far, and promised myself I would try harder next time. It has worked for me, even if it’s not infallible. For example, I recently had to hightail it out of a birthday party because it was filled with people I didn’t know…including the birthday person. Just a bit too much for me right now.

I didn’t beat myself up for it though. I nodded, smiled to myself, and quietly said – next time. I also spoke to my wife at length about this for the first time. Cheeky, right? Well, my wife has always seen me as impossible to be ‘knocked’, that nothing bothers me, and I exude confidence. So, it was kind of hard to ruin that perception of me.

Listen, if there is one bit of advice I can offer anyone, it is to talk to someone… anyone, if you can.

So, with Bloodstock 2023 being next month, you would think I’d be dreading the environment but it’s the complete opposite. I think if it was any other festival, I’d have serious reservations but with Bloodstock, it feels like I am far from alone. There is nowhere I’ve ever wanted to try as hard at then Bloodstock and I’m genuinely excited to be around so many likeminded people. It feels fantastic. It literally puts a smile on my face as I’m typing this out.

When Bloodstock say ‘we’re a family’, I believe it. Yet, this genuineness is built on you. It’s built on us. It’s built on every single person who comes to Bloodstock with a smile, a hug, a greeting, and a willingness to be the best version of themselves they possibly can be. It encourages others, including me, to put the same amount of effort in. Even if it isn’t always possible.

If you see me at Bloodstock, and you will, know that I am genuinely glad to see you. It has been a journey. A rambling journey as you can tell and what works for me isn’t necessarily going to work for you. I just wanted to offer my unfiltered thoughts on why Bloodstock has been good for my mental health. I hope it has the same effect on you.