Electrical Storm
One of the hardest parts for people with misophonia is convincing a parent, co-worker, or others who don’t “get it” that you are not making this up, not just being picky or difficult. “But,” says Dad (or someone), “You seem to be fine sometimes, or ok with some people, and not at other times or not with certain other people. So you must be able to control it, right? You just need to try harder.”
I have heard this so many times from so many different people on both sides of the issue. Yes, it is difficult to explain how that is possible, especially when you cannot really explain it or understand it well yourself.
The other day, when having this very conversation with one of my misophonia teens, it occurred to me to relay this true story to the kid, who might be able to pass it along to the frustrated and doubting parent:
It was raining (that is a big deal in itself, here in drought-ville, Southern California!) when suddenly there was a brown-out or power surge or something. The lights briefly dimmed and then went back up. The TiVo started to re-boot itself with that whole silly cartoon thing, and several clocks had to be re-set from flashing 12:00. The problem only lasted for a few seconds, if that, but the repercussions were extensive, throughout the house.
As I went around checking clocks, it occurred to me that this may be a way to explain what happens with misophonia. It might not be a problem 100% of the time, with every single person you encounter. Or like an electrical problem, it might last for a brief time before you can get it back together, or it might be more like a black-out, with the power disrupted for a longer period.
To continue that metaphor, if the power in the house went out for an extended period of time and disrupted life to a greater degree (as it would in a hurricane or tornado), it is likely that the next time a storm is brewing, you would prepare for that possibility again — you might make preparations, or get very tense, just because the wind is kicking up, even though the storm has not yet hit. Perhaps that is a way to explain to others why a misophone gets anxious at the mere appearance of a particular person or a stick of gum, in anticipation of what may be about to hit. No, that person did not start to chew gum — yet — but you are already anxious at what you know is coming. No, your mother did not cough or swallow in that way that irritates you — yet — but she seems like she is catching a cold, and you just know you will hate that sound you expect to hear in a minute.
One of the purposes of CBT or mindfulness as treatment modalities is to help you stay in the moment, to be present to what is actually happening, not to what you are worried might happen in a minute. Of course, you want to have emergency supplies on hand when the weather is bad, but you cannot function well if you are fearful at the first sprinkle of rain. Worrying does nothing to prevent the storm from arriving, and sometimes it blows off in another direction anyway.
It is understandable that you want to have your earplugs or headset on when you know Mom will be in the room, but it might not be necessary to run and lock yourself in the bedroom before you even say hello. The challenge is to be prepared for sounds that are difficult for you, but also to be able to manage yourself, to calm yourself about the stress you feel before you totally flip out. Not every rain brings electrical outages, and not all power outages are black-outs. Some are smaller and just annoying inconveniences. Can you learn ways to tolerate smaller amounts of stress without expecting every windy day to knock the power out? CBT can help you do that …