I vividly recall a moment from my seventh-grade math class, where I was trying hard to concentrate despite a sound that felt exaggerated and unbearable. It wasn’t the chatter of classmates or the screech of chalk on the board that threw me off balance. Instead, it was the incessant chewing and gum popping from the girl next to me. My heart raced, and I could feel my blood pressure rise as I struggled to push aside the overwhelming discomfort and the dark thoughts swirling in my mind.
And what were those thoughts? I had the undeniable urge to punch her, all because of the sound she was making while chewing gum. The intensity of rage that surged within me was astonishing. Who would want to hit someone over chewing gum? Yet, I couldn’t shake that feeling. Looking back, I think that was the moment my misophonia began, and I’ve spent nearly three decades grappling with it.
Misophonia, as defined by the Misophonia Institute, is a heightened sensitivity to specific soft sounds and visual stimuli, leading to strong emotional reactions like anger, anxiety, and even rage. For many years, I believed I was losing my sanity, convinced I had an unusual sensitivity to crunching and chewing noises. I never discussed it with friends or family, managing to avoid situations where these sounds were present. Thankfully, I never lashed out at anyone enjoying their snacks, despite the strong desire to do so.
It’s now clear that I’m not alone; over 20% of the population experiences some level of misophonia, often surfacing during adolescence. However, over time, my sensitivity worsened, compounded by the usual stresses of parenting. I found it increasingly difficult to cope with not just chewing sounds but also repetitive clicking noises, pencil tapping, and even the hum of a ceiling fan. It became nearly unbearable to share meals with my own family, which made family dinners rather challenging.
In search of answers, I reached out to a friend with a PhD in Audiology, hoping to find doctoral students interested in researching misophonia, featuring yours truly. I wanted to know if there was something wrong with my auditory processing that caused such extreme reactions. After spending time with a supportive group of PhD candidates specializing in speech and hearing disorders, I learned valuable insights about my condition.
Key Takeaways from My Experience
- Heightened Hearing Abilities: After several hearing tests, it turned out I had exceptionally acute hearing, able to pick up sounds from great distances. This was no surprise, as I never needed a baby monitor; I could hear my baby rolling over from across the house. People with misophonia often have keen hearing and elevated intelligence.
- Eating Together Can Help: When I’m actively chewing at the dinner table, I tend to notice others’ chewing less intensely. I can’t explain why this is the case, but it seems that being engaged in the act of eating myself helps to muffle the sounds around me.
- Emerging Therapies: New cognitive behavioral therapies are being developed to assist those with misophonia. These treatments require collaboration between auditory and psychological professionals to create effective plans. Techniques may include gradual exposure to triggering sounds, although I still rely on immediate avoidance for relief.
- Sound-Muffling Strategies: Earbuds can be a lifesaver, even if they’re not playing anything. Just having them in can help filter out disruptive noises, making it feel like I’m underwater, lessening the impact of triggering sounds.
- Returning to the Movies: For years, the sounds of people munching popcorn kept me away from movie theaters. However, I learned that I could borrow an assisted hearing device from theaters, allowing me to enjoy films while blocking out unwanted noise.
- Involving Family and Observing Signs in Children: I left the audiologist’s office feeling validated, realizing my experiences were not imaginary. The ongoing research into misophonia, including MRI imaging, is shedding light on the abnormal processing in the brains of those affected. Notably, one of my four children began showing signs of misophonia at age 13, just as I did. I assured him that he wasn’t alone, and together we could navigate this challenge.
If you think you might be experiencing misophonia, consider reaching out to local universities with communications disorders programs or consulting healthcare professionals. The more we share our experiences, the greater the opportunity for researchers to understand and develop treatments for this condition. With sharing comes understanding, allowing us to enjoy meals and moments together without the urge to lash out.
This article originally appeared on April 9, 2018.