MISOPHONIA - HATRED OF SOUND

One

This isn't an enjoyable story, it's more like a therapeutic release for me.  It started as a way for me to actually think about my problem and think about ways to cope, as I have yet to tell anyone that I know. 

Most people will never understand what it feels like to be enraged by the sounds caused by a room filled with people.  The constant swallowing, biting, chewing, smacking of lips, shaking legs, clicking of pens, flicking of nails, scratching, sniffing, coughing, stroking hair, gulping, swinging their legs; driving you completely insane.

Yes, I know that people can get annoyed by obviously loud chewing, for example, but that is such a mild form. There are times that I have wanted to rip the fingers off of a nail biter, or whack the throat of an innocent person who is completely unaware and casually smacking, sorry, snacking on their lunch. It's not really something you can talk about freely, is it?

You see, I am almost certain that I suffer from a condition called misophonia and another called misokinesia; which basically means to be allergic to sound and movement. But it's more than that; it's like an intense anger every single time a noise continues that can cause me to have outbursts of tears or, honestly, pure rage. Not all sounds and movements, of course, but I do have quite a lot of triggers.

For years, I've been trying to discreetly research the problem and what exactly was wrong with my mind. I was convinced that I was insane. The first time that I discovered that it as an actual condition, I had found a blog written by someone who suffered from the same symptoms.  I cried from the relief of knowing that I'm not actually alone. The man writing this blog shared that it isn't yet a recognised disorder, and instead of trying to figure out what was truly wrong with him, doctors diagnosed him as bipolar.  He went on to talk about how it was later discovered that this is an actual condition on its own.  Not everyone who suffers from misophonia will feel the same emotions or have the same reactions to certain sounds, which can make this disease even more difficult to understand.

For the majority of my life, I've known that there's something different about the way I hear and respond to sounds. When people were in a room, talking and enjoying themselves, my nails were cutting into the palms of my hands while I held in a scream or tears. I couldn't understand how no one else was bothered by all the excessive swallowing or chewing or flicking and biting of nails. It wasn't normal that they were so calm and I was almost to the point of a panic attack because everybody was being too loud.

It became even more unbearable when I was about 7 - I got my (previously troubled) ears fixed and I could suddenly hear all these horrific noises even more clearly than before. I used to smack myself and pull my hair. I would scrape my arms and legs without even realising it, all because of normal human sounds that didn't bother anyone else. It was around that time when I also realised that I was the only one affected by the disgusting noises that everyone made. I found myself practicing eating and drinking so that when I swallowed anything, I was quiet.  I didn't want to annoy anyone else in case others were experiencing this phenomenon too. (They weren't).

The only thing was, the fact that no one else seemed to show me the same consideration really hurt me. 

When this started, it was like someone had suddenly turned on a switch in my brain and I couldn't find the off button. All of these everyday sounds became insufferable to listen to. My father's continuous sniffing, my brother biting his nails, the volume of how my mother swallowed, chewed and slurped. Even as I write this, I can feel an uncomfortable feeling in the bottom of my stomach as I think about the beginning triggers.

When I was younger, not understanding that this is an actual condition, I developed a sort of coping mechanism so that I wouldn't burst into tears every time that someone stroked the roots of their hair, pointed or swallowed their tea too loudly. Simply, I would copy the sound that they made. It sounds like the most childish thing to do, but it worked. It was as if I had tricked my mind into believing that the sound came from me and that if I made this sound, I should be able to cope with it.

It wasn't long before my family caught on to what I was doing, although they never knew the reason. I'm sure that they just labelled it as a rude way to disrespect my parents. It was just the most simplistic way that I could think to help myself deal with it, obviously not realising that it could also annoy other people.  The unfortunate thing is that my mind must have attached and sewn itself to this idea as it has become almost instinct to need to do it.

Quite recently, I have discovered that mimicry is actually a coping method that other sufferers of misophonia also do. 'When exposed to a trigger sound, some people feel the need to mimic what they hear. Mimicry is an automatic, non-conscious social phenomenon. It can have a calming effect and make the situation feel better to the person experiencing stress. There is a biological basis for how mimicry lessens adverse reactions to triggers because it evokes compassion and empathy.' I can't even begin to tell you the relief I felt when I read that.

I AM NOT JUST AN INCONSIDERATE BITCH!

I'll never forget the time that my dad, in anger of this imitating, shouted to my mum that maybe I should get "checked out" for something wrong with me. I was still quite young and, holy shit, did that hurt. It made me feel completely worthless and that no one could possibly understand or believe me if I told them. So I didn't. I left it that they still think I'm a childish "bitch" who needs to grow up. I understand where he was coming from, it was out of hand at that point and I couldn't control it no matter what I tried.

I try not to blame any of them for not asking why I did it. It just hurts sometimes that they never thought to ask what was actually causing this change in their daughter's behaviour, especially as she was over the point where it was acceptable. I couldn't tell them about it when I didn't understand what it was and I definitely can't now as the only times they ever mention it is when they scream in my face for being an awful person who does this. Not their exact words, but the unspoken message was delivered: they would never understand.

My dad used to say that I didn't know that I was doing it. I never contradicted him. Let him think it was unintentional and I didn't mean to, rather than the alternative of telling them that I used to hit my face and smack pillows into all the walls of my room because he kept making that stupid 'humhumhum' noise. Like, just shut up.

I guess the thing I find most difficult to believe is that I'm not alone; if I am suffering with this, someone else must be too. It's just that I feel as if no one could ever get why I am like this or why I struggle to sit in a room full of people drinking. The point I want everyone to know is that it is not intentional and that if I could stop this feeling, even stop the imitating that I feel compelled to do, I would. Faster than a heart can beat, I would stop.

So, if anyone else has ever felt anything like this, you're not the only one.