When I first got tinnitus, I clung to the "fake it till you make it" mantra. I tried to convince myself that things would turn around, that someday, the constant ringing in my ears would just fade into the background because no one could live this way. I was so desperate that I even volunteered for one of those early clinical trials for tinnitus drugs, crossing my fingers for a breakthrough. But nothing came from it.
My hyperacusis was brutal, practically chaining me to my home. Every conversation with loved ones felt like an ordeal, triggering a painful burning sensation and a sense of fullness in my ears. It was a daily struggle, with each day feeling like a marathon, just trying to make it through, along with a host of other tinnitus-related issues.
Over the years, I faced my fair share of setbacks and wrestled with other health issues that nearly robbed me of my mobility. It took me years to regain even a fraction of the independence I once had.
I was suicidal for a few periods in my life. In those moments, I just pushed myself for one more day, then again the next day, and the day after that. I'm still healing from the trauma that tinnitus and other issues had on me with the help of medicines and therapy. I'm slightly surprised I'm still here ten years later, posting on Tinnitus Talk.
There is a quote by the late Cormac McCarthy that resonates deeply with me: "Keep a little fire burning; however small, however, hidden." Many will be surprised by where they are and how much joy is still possible in life, given enough time. Find out what your fire is, and make sure to kindle it; refuse to let it die out.
Despite all the BS that happened and the pain and trauma, there were moments of pure magic. I pushed myself to live—to travel, to hang out at bars, to soak up time with family, to fall in and out of love, and yes, even to attend events with loud live music (with trusty earplugs always on standby). Sure, looking back, some of my choices probably made my tinnitus worse, but I don't regret a single one.