Will Everybody Please STFU

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There’s a right of passage when the 18th birthday is looming.  It’s time to swagger up to the door of the local night club and attempt to get in without being quizzed.  Back then they weren’t bothered about underage drinking so long as it wasn’t too obvious.

So having found myself inside the den of pleasure it all came tumbling down because I couldn’t stand the noise.  I’d been a solitary person up to then and this rather confirmed it.  Hedonism requiring noise and loud company was not a place for me to visit very often, if at all.

That’s left me acutely aware of noise ever since.  Two more recent things have left me with a new relationship with noise and it’s not particularly pleasant.

A severe illness a few months ago has left me susceptible to more noise induced migraines.  A couple of weeks ago I came across the term Misophonia, I don’t claim a self-diagnosis of the condition, but it describes very well what I can experience.

The brainwashing sessions starting about this time last year have helped launch melody in to a different dimension by letting her be the one to experience and interact with feelings and emotions that would otherwise in the past been suppressed and ignored.  Seemingly, this can now also be a reaction to a normal hypnosis session.  What I have come to realise is that at the most fundamental level this is done by lowering the thresholds for sensory inputs and their sensitivities.  Generally these inputs are emotional sustenance for melody – she’s coming to terms with that edge of tears feeling for which there’s no rhyme or reason.

Sometimes, however, the environment has other stimuli such as sounds which with the lowered threshold of sensitivity will kick off the “misophonia”.  This week was such a case resulting in a two day intense migraine, including throwing up on the first day.  Mind you, I defy anyone to not react to the colleague 4 feet behind me when he’s sniffing and hawking.  His peak sniff rate is around 250 / hour.  Yes, I’ve measured it.


I need a big sign over my desk – “Everybody just STFU”.

It seems I have discovered the price associated with enjoying being melody and what sets her free.

Now I’ve put a name to it, do I own it, or does it own me ?