“Could you please, turn that volume down?!”
No one could really put the number on how many times I’ve said that. Everywhere I go I want to turn the volume down. TV, radio, people, machines… just anything.
My husband takes remote control, and after a few seconds I’ll yell: “Turn the volume down!” After a while, he probably thinks that I’ve adapted on the sound already and he tries to turn the volume up, but I’ll yell even more: “Turn that down!” Sometimes he turns the volume down without saying anything, but when he’s watching an interesting movie or else then he’ll yell back to me: “I don’t want to turn the volume down! Use earplugs for God’s sake! Would you let me watch something normally?! Ever?!“
That’s the way it is, really. Every day.
I have two younger brothers, they and my father are huge sports fans. They watched every sport imaginable when I was growing up. There was always something happening of course, no matter what time of the year is. I don’t know when it started to annoy me but I couldn’t stand those sounds, racket and ball on tennis court, football, volleyball, table tennis, basketball… you named it…Oh I forgot to add cheering! Those sounds wouldn’t bother me if I’m watching the game actively but those sounds in the background were completely different story.
In every house I enter I’ll try somehow to turn down the sounds there. They’re just too loud.
Music in the car. I can’t figure why someone wants to listen a radio or music in the car. If I turn the radio on, I can’t hear the engine. If it’s raining I can’t hear the rain, I wont hear that other, natural sounds.
Some people with Misophonia listen to music in order to mask hatred sounds. I can’t do that, it doesn’t work for me because of my complicated relationship with music.
Music…hm… I feel that the music would be so much better if we just separate instruments and voices. I want to listen just an instrument or just voices. Two of them combined are killing me. I could bare with a voice and an instrument, but more elements involved is just difficult. Of course, I do have plenty to choose from but I rarely do.
Being a teenager includes declaring themselves in terms of music one listen to . I listened to metal and punk. I was depressed, dark, angry and serious. Nobody gets me, my life is so hard, kind of thing. Everyone knew names of albums, songs, singers and players, I couldn’t care less. All I cared about were words. Also everybody locks themselves up in the room and put their favorite music on, enjoy and listen. I was forcing myself to do that.
Completely different experience is if and when I go to clubs and concerts. I really enjoy that. I can’t force myself to turn the music on, but I’ll go anywhere and enjoy a live performance.
It took me some time to realize that I don’t hate music as whole, I hate when the music is coming to me trough some devices, radio, TV. I spent a month in a hospital laying in a room with no tv or computer. Did I listen music or radio? No.
My husband was a singer in few bands. I enjoy when he sings and plays guitar anywhere, but I hate when he turns the music on. Some more time with me and I’m afraid I’ll kill music in him. That’s the other side of this misophonia story. I’ll probably write more about it.
If I’m going to sleep over the first thought are: “Am I going to be isolated somehow?” If the answer is positive then I’ll be happy to go.
People who speak loudly by their nature, I put a lot of effort into listening what they are saying because I’m focused on their tone of the voice. Or even when people catch cold and change their voice…grrr…
I can’t imagine how all this sounds when reading this first time. You can call me weirdo, doesn’t matter.
Just if only everything could be quieter…
Photo: I took this few years ago, of course Oly and the kit lens. If I remember correctly this was my first attempt with a texture and changing background. Dark couch was behind him and yellow wall, took that out. I whitened his teeth and gave him eye liner and mascara in Photoshop or Gimp. Can’t remember what I was using then.