Misophonia … and the urge to stab someone in the eye ….

I have always had a sensitivity to sound and light.  Left to my own devices, I wouldn’t have a radio on, and certain DSTV channels put me on edge, and make me stressed (more than usual).

Of course I put it down to being cranky and just being a bitch, but at some point I stumbled on misphonia.com and realised that the fact that I react to sound is not JUST because I am a bitch.

I am not arguing that I am a bitch, but the way I react to sound is even more bitch than even I find “normal.”

I do not choose to react in an extreme manner, but there are sounds that are like hearing nails on a chalkboard or teeth on wool.

I have an ACTUAL physical reaction to certain sounds.  It does not matter if I dislike or love the person, when they make certain sounds it is like a phosphorous bomb going off in my head.

Big explosion, sharp green light, and then a material that eats through flesh when it lands on it.  My reaction to sound is EXACTLY like that.  The part where my flesh gets eaten until I die is the most accurate.

I have realised I CANNOT sit with my kids at meal times – Connor knocks the fork against his teeth, Georgia eats like a savage ….and the chewing sound sets me off.  I know it should be all holding hands and meditating at meals, but I actually need to sit at a different table.

Today around 11am I made myself a bowl of muesli with yoghurt, and a cup of tea, and I went to sit in the tv room.  Not to watch tv, but so that I could close the door, and shut out all ambient sound.  I put the tv on for a few minutes and then turned it off and just sat there.

Kennith has been away for about two weeks, and before that he was away for about four weeks.  I have no issue with dealing with the house and the kids myself, I am actually extremely self-reliant and I can put my head down and do what needs to be done. But I feel like I am actually going stark raving mad.

My top sounds-to-drive-mommy-to-a-Zoloft-script are:

1. Georgia’s high pitched voice that does not stop.

2. Connor has a particular whine when he whines … he goes “Moooooommmmmmmie” and it sets my teeth on edge.

3.  I have a bird who has now been flying against my dining room window for 8 weeks – I have blocked out windows with paper and masking tape, I have fitted fine gut netting which is actually really cruel to catch birds in, I have tried cut out of ferocious looking birds on the windows, I have gone out and sweared at the bird like a drunken whore, I am at my wit’s end.

4.  Isabelle calls “muuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm” when she needs me to do something with her. I am her glorified hand servant.  Having your child call you is really sweet. 10% of the time. Right now I want to get the large kitchen scissors and stab someone.  Anyone.

5.  My kids drink from sucky bottles —- I really cannot bear it.

I need a holiday from sound.  I NEED A HOLIDAY.  I NEED TO RUN AWAY JUST FOR A BIT, because seriously I am going absolutely frkn crazy.

I realise I sound like someone who is about to lose their mind, or should be on a stronger brand of antipsychotics, but I can’t quite express who I feel like my head is going to implode.  I can “do sound” up to a point.  About the point where I cannot do sound.  Which is about right now.

The next person who tells me “to just get over it” is going to get a blunt broken wine glass in the temple.

Know a place I can holiday for about two weeks, cheap with really controlled sound?

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Crazy people need the right meds …. really

No secret that I have some challenges and I have a script.  The script is meant to help me help myself, I guess.

I see a psychologist every week.  We do cognitive behavioral therapy and we slowly work through the way I see the world.

It is all very well to have a quirky outlook on the world, but sometimes it helps to have someone assist you in how you process the information you have got coming in.  Sometimes a chicken crossing a road, is not always just a chicken crossing the road.  On the hand the chicken crossing the road is not a plot against you.  It’s just a chicken crossing the road.

December was December.   January seemed to start way too soon.  Was up and running too fast.  I have been feeling edgy, anxious and a bit “funny” and it has started to climb.  I thought it was a December thing, then a January thing, but now I am wondering it if is February thing.

I started wondering if I am heading for another little “break” and I am not quite ready to go down the rabbit hole so soon, after coming back from the last little trip.

I knew I was not feeling great, I just did not know why.  I was taking my meds.  I was doing my therapy.  I was doing the work.

I made an appointment with my Pill Doctor – first appointment I could get was for today (I booked this in January already.)

I keep my medication in a little tupperware dish.  It keeps everything together, makes it easy to slip in to my bag, or to put in my cupboard away from the kids.  Works well.

I take it with to doctor’s appointments, as if anyone asks, I can open it and say, I take two of these, one of these, and one of these.

They always ask, and I never know the names.  Tupperware in bag a better idea that you think.

Today was no exception.  Pill Doctor obviously knows my script, as he wrote it.  But he started asking to find out whether I was experiencing side effects, and just to touch base on what I was on.

So I go: “I am taking one of these in the morning…”

Dr Pill Doctor: “That’s wrong, you should be taking three Zoloft, not one of the Serdep….”

Me: “When I received this from my chemist I thought it was wrong, so I called back and asked him, and he confirmed that he had given me the correct stuff and the correct dose.  I even took the box back to him and asked again.  He again said that it is correct at one a day of Serdep — I said the grammage did not seem right, but he said it was!”

Dr Pill Doctor: “I am sorry it is wrong, the script I gave and that you were on since June is Zoloft and three of them a day…. so you are on 1/3 of what you are normally on, and have been on since June last year ……”

Moer, I am annoyed/angry/pissed off.

Clearly a taking-your-meds-101 error!

I have been “struggling” since December, and kept wondering what the hang is going on here.  I was desperate to get an appointment with Dr Pill Doctor as I thought maybe he could order a set of blood/hormone tests as clearly there was really something wrong.

Before June 2011 I felt like shit, after clinic and meds and August 2011, I was definitely feeling better. Things were stabilising and I felt like i was getting a better grip on what was going on.

November I saw Pill Doctor we agreed to keep script the same, took script to Chemist.  Chemist said that I should swap the Zoloft for the Serdep.  And that is where it went all a bit very wrong.

Chemist put me on to 50mg and I was on 150mg before.  When I queried it he said that it was correct.  But being me, who feels awkward to put my hand up and say “er, that is wrong…” telling my Chemist that I think he made an error, was not exactly easy.  When he told me twice that he had not made an error, even though I still felt that something not quite right, but I decided that I am clearly wrong, so I nodded, went home, and took my pill.

The problem is that I have not been feeling “quite right.”  My anxiety and stress has started to climb, and I have been looking around for what could possibly be the problem.

I have been convinced that “the slide” is starting again.

I find out today that my chemist is actually an idiot and cannot read a script.  My Pill Doctor wrote the new script out and wrote on it in fairly legible copy DO NOT USE SUBSTITUTES!!

I am glad that my medication has been adjusted and hopefully in about 4 – 6 weeks I will start to feel a bit better, and get back on to the right road.

I am so chipped off that I have been feeling this amount of “breaking” for the last 4 – 6 weeks which has been totally unnecessary and could have gone horribly wrong.

I am so angry that when I said that something was not right, my chemist did not take the time to go back and recheck the script and what he had given me.

I am sure I will see the happy side soon.