Life with Misophonia- Age 13

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When I was thirteen years old, I was happy. I would play with my friends all day outside, go out to restaurants with my family, eat at the dining table. Things a normal kid would do, right?

Slowly, I was noticing that there was something different about me. Something that I couldn't explain, something that nobody would understand. People would think I was crazy if I told them what was going on in my head, so I kept myself to myself and tried my hardest to ignore it.

Ignoring it was hard, near impossible I'd say. Sounds would fill my ears, sights would take over my view and once I gave into it I couldn't "Just ignore it".  I'd close my eyes but it wouldn't take my anger away, I would put my hands over my ears but the sounds would continue to echo in my head. It was driving me crazy.

My parents would look at me like I was a baby having a tantrum, I suppose if you saw it from their point of view, you'd agree wouldn't you?

I would try and try to explain how I was feeling, but I would get the same response again and again, the same response I get any time I try and talk about it, "You need to go to the doctor and get your head sorted, you're crazy". But don't you think I don't already know I'm crazy? You think that this response to everyday things is something that I find normal? Well I don't. I know that I am crazy, I know that nobody would understand. That's why I have to close my eyes and block my ears before my anger explodes out of me. I'm like a firework that has been lit, I am ready to explode at any moment.

Days were getting harder, sounds were getting louder, sights were getting easier to find. My misophonia was getting worse. It wasn't enough to just put my earphones in and listen to music. My anger wouldn't disappear that easy.

I tried not to think too much about it, maybe it'd go away...

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