“Everybody gets annoyed by certain noises.”
“You just need to get over it, you can’t change the way the world works.”
Welcome to Misophonia. Like other conditions, those of us who suffer get to live day to day with the horror of explaining it to others. We’re those crazy people who give you an angry glare when you click your pen, chew too loudly, or shake your foot. We’re perpetually angry, we nitpick and we are hard to be around sometimes.
Also, we don’t want to be that way. Believe me, I haven’t chosen this neurological hell. I want to sit in my own apartment and not cry day and night because the guy upstairs is walking too loud. I want to go on a bus and not have to worry about the guy whistling. I want to live my life.
To make this disorder more fun, it’s triggered depression. I write this after two weeks of hiding in my bed. These days have been spent with several tears of exasperation. I am trapped in my own head and there’s nothing I can do about it. Did I mention that earplugs and earphones give me severe headaches and nausea (just my luck, right?). You want to tell me that it’ll all be alright and that there’s “ways to cope”. It’s not a mental disorder, it’s neurological – the brain waves just aren’t right. There’s no way to change my fight or flight response, believe me, some amazing scientists are trying.
My past two weeks have been total agony. It’s probably a lovely mixture of anxiety, depression (both MDD and SAD). I know that logically it may get better as the summer comes, well the depression at least. The Misophonia is here to stay. It’s a hateful disorder. It causes extreme and irrational responses to the nervous ticks of others. It’s more than an “annoyance”. It is uncontrollable, it is extreme, and it is hopeless. We do not get annoyed – we get absolutely panicked. We sit there holding our breath, our minds being enveloped by hateful thoughts – and in our desperation we may flee, or we may cry. Our minds are telling us to fight back – to get out. Some of us may even want to hurt ourselves or others.
Before you tell me to “get over it” could you please show some compassion? Believe me, I am trying my absolute hardest to get out of this mess that is my brain.