I was 48 years old when I first heard the term "misophonia," but I immediately knew it described what I had been suffering from all my life. My earliest memories are of sitting at the dinner table, trembling with rage and anxiety as I listened to my father chew his food. Ticking clocks, clicking mice, clacking keyboards, and people wearing flip flops—the list of triggers goes on. My only escape from the stress and anxiety these sounds cause is to physically remove myself from any place or situation where they exist. The impact that misophonia has had on my life cannot be overstated.
Tinnitus has also been with me all my life, but until August 2023, it had little effect. I remember being as young as eight or nine, suddenly hearing a high pitched ringing in my brain, but it never lasted more than 5 or 10 seconds, and taking a deep breath would make it dissolve and fade away. It happened maybe once or twice a year, so I never thought of myself as "having" tinnitus. It was just an occasional experience. My mother mentioned it happened to her sometimes as well, so I never worried about it. That changed one day in August 2023, at the age of 51, when it felt like someone flipped a switch. Suddenly, I "had" tinnitus. The same high pitched screeching I had always heard was now deafening, an unbearable noise inside my head, and no matter how many breaths I took, it would not fade away.
It has been over a year of non stop screaming inside my head, from the moment I wake up until I finally manage to fall asleep. I have been to doctors and audiologists. My hearing is "above average" and very acute, which audiologists believe might contribute to my misophonia, but there is no explanation for the tinnitus, and hearing aids have had no effect (I have tried them). I have had two CAT scans, neither of which showed anything unusual in my brain that might cause the tinnitus. I have tried every trick I could find on YouTube videos titled "How I Cured My Tinnitus." Nothing has worked. I even had an ENT specialist inject steroids through my eardrum, but this had no effect.
At first, I thought the tinnitus was in my left ear, but I have since realized it has nothing to do with my ears. The screeching seems to be mostly on the left side of my brain (at around 8000 kHz), and after living with tinnitus for over a year, I have concluded that nothing I do affects it. I have good days and bad days, but I have no control over which I will experience. Good days are when I can get through without using tinnitus maskers. On bad days, I use an earbud in one or both ears to drown out the screaming inside my brain. I have had stressful days when the tinnitus felt unbearable, and stressful days when I barely noticed it. Stress does not determine whether I have a good or bad day.
Two things have helped me cope with my tinnitus, and I am alive today because of them. The first is tinnitus maskers, which I listen to on YouTube during bad days. The second is sleeping pills. My doctor was and still is very concerned about me taking them, and I was anxious at first, but I have been taking them nightly for 10 months now. The only effect has been a good night's sleep. Trying to sleep with tinnitus screaming in my brain is nearly impossible, and I can say without a doubt that I would not be alive today if not for the sleeping pills and the break they give me from my brain, my torturer.
Knowing that no change in diet, exercise, or anything else affects my tinnitus, the only analogy that makes sense to me is that the screaming is simply the sound of my brain functioning. It is the sound of billions of neurons firing to keep my heart beating, lungs pumping, and body upright. The nerves that carry sound from my ears to the part of the brain that processes it should be insulated, like electrical wiring in a house. This insulation is supposed to block the sound of my brain from mixing with the sounds of the outside world, but it has worn away. My tinnitus, in a sense, is a short circuit, mixing the sound of my brain with external noise. I have no idea if this is true, but sadly, neither does anyone else. No one today knows more about tinnitus or how to fix it than they did 200 years ago when it drove Beethoven mad.
My hope for a cure for my tinnitus is as fragile as my hope that the screaming in my head will one day disappear as suddenly as it appeared.
Tinnitus has also been with me all my life, but until August 2023, it had little effect. I remember being as young as eight or nine, suddenly hearing a high pitched ringing in my brain, but it never lasted more than 5 or 10 seconds, and taking a deep breath would make it dissolve and fade away. It happened maybe once or twice a year, so I never thought of myself as "having" tinnitus. It was just an occasional experience. My mother mentioned it happened to her sometimes as well, so I never worried about it. That changed one day in August 2023, at the age of 51, when it felt like someone flipped a switch. Suddenly, I "had" tinnitus. The same high pitched screeching I had always heard was now deafening, an unbearable noise inside my head, and no matter how many breaths I took, it would not fade away.
It has been over a year of non stop screaming inside my head, from the moment I wake up until I finally manage to fall asleep. I have been to doctors and audiologists. My hearing is "above average" and very acute, which audiologists believe might contribute to my misophonia, but there is no explanation for the tinnitus, and hearing aids have had no effect (I have tried them). I have had two CAT scans, neither of which showed anything unusual in my brain that might cause the tinnitus. I have tried every trick I could find on YouTube videos titled "How I Cured My Tinnitus." Nothing has worked. I even had an ENT specialist inject steroids through my eardrum, but this had no effect.
At first, I thought the tinnitus was in my left ear, but I have since realized it has nothing to do with my ears. The screeching seems to be mostly on the left side of my brain (at around 8000 kHz), and after living with tinnitus for over a year, I have concluded that nothing I do affects it. I have good days and bad days, but I have no control over which I will experience. Good days are when I can get through without using tinnitus maskers. On bad days, I use an earbud in one or both ears to drown out the screaming inside my brain. I have had stressful days when the tinnitus felt unbearable, and stressful days when I barely noticed it. Stress does not determine whether I have a good or bad day.
Two things have helped me cope with my tinnitus, and I am alive today because of them. The first is tinnitus maskers, which I listen to on YouTube during bad days. The second is sleeping pills. My doctor was and still is very concerned about me taking them, and I was anxious at first, but I have been taking them nightly for 10 months now. The only effect has been a good night's sleep. Trying to sleep with tinnitus screaming in my brain is nearly impossible, and I can say without a doubt that I would not be alive today if not for the sleeping pills and the break they give me from my brain, my torturer.
Knowing that no change in diet, exercise, or anything else affects my tinnitus, the only analogy that makes sense to me is that the screaming is simply the sound of my brain functioning. It is the sound of billions of neurons firing to keep my heart beating, lungs pumping, and body upright. The nerves that carry sound from my ears to the part of the brain that processes it should be insulated, like electrical wiring in a house. This insulation is supposed to block the sound of my brain from mixing with the sounds of the outside world, but it has worn away. My tinnitus, in a sense, is a short circuit, mixing the sound of my brain with external noise. I have no idea if this is true, but sadly, neither does anyone else. No one today knows more about tinnitus or how to fix it than they did 200 years ago when it drove Beethoven mad.
My hope for a cure for my tinnitus is as fragile as my hope that the screaming in my head will one day disappear as suddenly as it appeared.
