Misophonia: the hatred of sound
I’ve been thinking a lot about misophonia lately. I just laughed out loud as I wrote that – shit, I’m weird. But in all seriousness, I literally thought everyone thought about throwing forks at someone chewing too loud. No? I swear, my boyfriend breathes loud just to piss me off. When I tell him to breathe quieter I get a hurt puppy dog look followed by an eye role and usually a couple minutes of the silent treatment (but not silent enough that his breathing shuts the fuck up) – damn I’m weird AND an asshole.
I bring this up for a reason. It’s just little things I’m noticing on my journey to quit my beloved cigarettes – how things smell better, how I breathe better, and how apparently I really fucking hate noise.
I’ve found that I can stop talking about smoking… as I talk about smoking. In my research, I learned that addicts love to talk about their vices. I by no means think I’m no longer addicted to smoking, I will always be addicted, but it’s definitely not my king anymore. But there are hilariously funny (is that a redundant?) things I noticed as I go along this… is it called a journey if it theoretically has no end?
I didn’t have much time to write today, but in short – I’m doing well, but keep your chewing the fuck away from me.