Waking up one morning, four years ago now, to loud intrusive hateful Tinnitus, was the vilest thing that had ever happened to me, the very worst kind of luck.
I just knew within the first ten seconds that this would be permanent, the soundtrack to my life, that would change that life for ever.
There is no other experience in life that seeks to rob us of our peace and quiet, our peace of mind, our composure, our 'joie de vivre,' our very beautiful 'calmness of being.'
It places us, in total isolation, on a battlefield of hostility.
We will always have to fight this battle, and fight it alone.
Being so catastrophic, so detestable, it raises instantly huge questions in our minds.
Do we want to go on living?
Can we go on living?
Do we even have a choice?
We all deserve to live in peace.
It is our birthright, and we have been robbed.
"Okay - that is quite enough Doom and Gloom - in fact, more than enough...."
I am a small part of a large truly wonderful family, every single member of which I love with all my heart.
I live in a most lovely part of the world.
Just so beautiful.
I have some lovely friends and neighbours.
(Need I mention three exceptional pussycats?)
One of my lovely daughters, a school teacher, has developed chronic Tinnitus.
In answer to the questions posed above, I want to say:
I know that life is now very different for me,
it will always be this way,
but I want to live,
I want to enjoy the love of the people around me,
I want to look after those pussycats,
I want to show Tinnitus that life is still possible, and can be enjoyed,
and I want to be the encouraging example to my lovely daughter that we can all win through.
(Reading this - those of you with mild Tinnitus will wonder what the hell I am talking about
- those with 'the real thing'
will know the truth.)
I just knew within the first ten seconds that this would be permanent, the soundtrack to my life, that would change that life for ever.
There is no other experience in life that seeks to rob us of our peace and quiet, our peace of mind, our composure, our 'joie de vivre,' our very beautiful 'calmness of being.'
It places us, in total isolation, on a battlefield of hostility.
We will always have to fight this battle, and fight it alone.
Being so catastrophic, so detestable, it raises instantly huge questions in our minds.
Do we want to go on living?
Can we go on living?
Do we even have a choice?
We all deserve to live in peace.
It is our birthright, and we have been robbed.
"Okay - that is quite enough Doom and Gloom - in fact, more than enough...."
I am a small part of a large truly wonderful family, every single member of which I love with all my heart.
I live in a most lovely part of the world.
Just so beautiful.
I have some lovely friends and neighbours.
(Need I mention three exceptional pussycats?)
One of my lovely daughters, a school teacher, has developed chronic Tinnitus.
In answer to the questions posed above, I want to say:
I know that life is now very different for me,
it will always be this way,
but I want to live,
I want to enjoy the love of the people around me,
I want to look after those pussycats,
I want to show Tinnitus that life is still possible, and can be enjoyed,
and I want to be the encouraging example to my lovely daughter that we can all win through.
(Reading this - those of you with mild Tinnitus will wonder what the hell I am talking about
- those with 'the real thing'
will know the truth.)