For me, it was mostly a separate case. As I mentioned, it was 24/7 but worsened with cold weather, hot weather, wind, touch, and so on.
And just to clarify, I'm referring to medical Botox, not cosmetic.
If you keep looking for "horror stories" about people who didn't improve, you're only making things harder for your own recovery. That's how our brains are wired—especially if you have a lot of anxiety and are completely fixated on it. I'd suggest stopping those searches and focusing on your own path to recovery.
Remember, many people who do get better don't take the time to write about it like I am now.
Wishing you the best on your journey.
The comment about looking young was a joke—got to try and laugh a bit, haven't you?
That does sound truly horrible, and I'm sorry you went through it. However, it doesn't seem quite the same as the anxiety of having it triggered by everyday sounds, including my own voice. I also haven't found anyone with this variant who has had success with common neuralgia treatments.
Normally, I'd agree with you. In fact, when my tinnitus first started, I purposely avoided looking it up too much to steer clear of negativity (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't the best approach). But I haven't come across any cases of people recovering after more than a year, and even those who do seem to have reduced tolerance and longer recovery times. Unfortunately, that only reinforces my anxiety.
If I could find even a handful of good recovery stories to hold onto—I know these places tend to attract the worst cases, but surely someone would come back to report progress!—or if it were just the tinnitus itself, where many seem to go on to live fulfilling lives, I'd be much more motivated to focus on my own recovery. But with such a bleak outlook and the constant discomfort, it's much harder to ignore.
Still, I appreciate you trying. Thank you.
Yeah, I should have never taken a benzo. It's been going on for about two months—sirens, violins, screaming, extreme hyperacusis, and some noxacusis.
How did yours improve? Was it just distraction? Did you use protection?
I didn't use much protection at first, aside from avoiding loud sounds like a boiling kettle or a running bath. I also wore cotton wool in my ears while making dinner or when people were around, just as a general precaution. My ears felt delicate and would react with a dripping wet sensation and discomfort in response to sudden louder noises. At the time, I hadn't read up on things yet.
I believe my tinnitus worsened significantly due to the nasal steroids and antihistamines I was taking after being diagnosed with the classic Eustachian tube dysfunction (ETD). It turns out that antihistamines make me quite depressed, and nasal steroids, besides causing thick mucus to drain from my Eustachian tubes (which wasn't helping), also made me extremely stressed and anxious. That might be similar to how benzodiazepine withdrawals are affecting you. In fact, after realizing the steroids were messing me up, I had to take benzodiazepines for a few days just to cope with the horrific comedown.
During that time, I spent most of my days sitting in my room with the TV on and an air purifier running—probably louder than I should have had it, but I wasn't aware then that too much sound could be detrimental. That said, I think complete silence would have been a mistake, and it wasn't causing me any physical pain. I played games on my laptop from morning to night and watched comforting box sets to fall asleep. Gradually, over about eight weeks (though it felt much, much longer), things started to improve, even if only slightly. It was still absolutely horrible and soul-crushing, but with each small improvement, I got closer to being able to cope.
I kept telling myself, If it just gets a little quieter here, or if this sound fades, I can handle it. And, little by little, it did. Then the goalposts would move. The screams in the morning stopped. The siren-like sound backed off for slightly longer periods during the day, and its volume lowered a bit. When I went for walks outside, I didn't notice it as much—though I now wish I had protected my ears during those walks. Each time it reappeared, or when hyperacusis flared up, or when I developed a new symptom like pain up the side of my head, I had no idea what was happening, and it was incredibly challenging.
By the third month, while I was still exhausted and beaten down, I started to see some light at the end of the tunnel on certain days. It still flared up at night, and I experienced new symptoms like in-the-middle-of-the-head tinnitus, fluttering ears, or dropout tinnitus episodes. But around the 14-week mark, for the first time, I felt like Yeah, I can cope with this.
Now, after four months, I still have rough mornings, but it's at a level where I can manage. I can even relax with the TV at night—though I still need a bit of extra distraction, like doing a crossword, to fully concentrate.
Not everyone's experience follows the same course, but I got through the hardest thing I've ever endured while, at the same time, my father was passing from dementia in the next room. At one point, I felt so dissociated that I wasn't sure I could stop myself from doing something I wouldn't be able to take back. But I'm still here. They say that truly coming to terms with this horrible condition can take a year or two, so don't feel like this stage is forever.
If you can, I really recommend seeing a therapist, even just for a few sessions. Being able to fully unload on someone has made some of my darkest moments more manageable. Mine also guided me through relaxation exercises that, even if only briefly, helped me release some of the tension I had been carrying.
But you'll be surprised by how much inner strength you can pull from, even when you're totally breaking down and it doesn't feel like it. Even just crawling to bed for another day is an accomplishment.
