This June represents the two year mark for me and tinnitus. As I've described in previous posts, the onset of my severe unilateral tinnitus occurred spontaneously one evening while I sat watching television. It has not abated or diminished in intensity over the subsequent 24 months.
I think about tinnitus every minute of every day. It dominates all aspects of my life, and requires tremendous mental stamina to endure. As a writer working in marketing and advertising, its ever-present nuisance has greatly impacted the quality of my output. As I sit in my office now, the 12k tone feels like it's burrowing a hole in my skull. It's painfully loud. The sense of anxiety has never relinquished, and I pass my days alone in constant torment.
I'll never know what caused my tinnitus. It presented seven months after I underwent a successful craniotomy for a benign brain tumor. The distress of that procedure, coupled with the emotional pain of divorce a year prior, may have simply broken my brain. I don't know.
In any event, tinnitus is clearly here to stay. Though its burden is great, I am determined to endure it. I try to remind myself that many people never received the opportunity to live as long as I have (I'm 39). I think of the millions of young men - especially the many gifted English poets - who died in the trenches of France during the first world war. It somehow consoles me to think that I've been given more time than they, even though my time now is monopolized by tinnitus. I can still occasionally read and write, and I sometimes experience momentary reprieves from the anguish after a workout or a few drinks. But most days are misery, and that's my lot. It's not as bad as others' fates, and I try to maintain perspective.
To all in a similar predicament, persevere. There is value in suffering.
I think about tinnitus every minute of every day. It dominates all aspects of my life, and requires tremendous mental stamina to endure. As a writer working in marketing and advertising, its ever-present nuisance has greatly impacted the quality of my output. As I sit in my office now, the 12k tone feels like it's burrowing a hole in my skull. It's painfully loud. The sense of anxiety has never relinquished, and I pass my days alone in constant torment.
I'll never know what caused my tinnitus. It presented seven months after I underwent a successful craniotomy for a benign brain tumor. The distress of that procedure, coupled with the emotional pain of divorce a year prior, may have simply broken my brain. I don't know.
In any event, tinnitus is clearly here to stay. Though its burden is great, I am determined to endure it. I try to remind myself that many people never received the opportunity to live as long as I have (I'm 39). I think of the millions of young men - especially the many gifted English poets - who died in the trenches of France during the first world war. It somehow consoles me to think that I've been given more time than they, even though my time now is monopolized by tinnitus. I can still occasionally read and write, and I sometimes experience momentary reprieves from the anguish after a workout or a few drinks. But most days are misery, and that's my lot. It's not as bad as others' fates, and I try to maintain perspective.
To all in a similar predicament, persevere. There is value in suffering.
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