Member-only story
My Difficulties in Living With Misophonia
My journey has had its ups and downs.
Everything else about Ryan was great. He was a clever, funny, and loyal. I always felt comfortable asking him for advice, no matter how difficult or sensitive the topic was. I was grateful for our friendship.
But good heavens, he drove me nuts if we were having a meal. He waited until his mouth was stuffed to start talking. He slurped his drink loud enough to turn heads at the neighboring table. He smacked his lips after every bite like he was taste-testing for a cooking show.
I’d sit there, quietly clenching my fist under the table to capture the tension, as my forehead sweated, feeling like I was about to start shouting.
In Ryan’s defense — this is all my fault, really. I suffer from misophonia. People with this condition get triggered by noises and are often unreasonable in their psychological and physical response. His was the first case where I legitimately felt I was losing my cool. To be clear, yes, he was being rude at the table. But I shouldn’t have been reacting so strongly. The problem is — my misophonia got worse as time went on. Even simple things were hard to ignore.
In my final corporate office, we shared a grid of cubicles. The office chairs they bulk purchased all became progressively more…
