It felt like my heart was about to break the speed limit, my muscles tensed as my palms began to sweat, It seemed like I was having an anxiety attack. I felt the urge to cry and even stronger the urge to flee, just run away. I felt like I was in intense danger when all that was going on was that I was having dinner with my family. Yeah! that's how it began; the end of my social life. For the first few years, I didn't know what it was, all I knew was that I get irritated and angry when someone munches loudly on their food or when someone smacks their lips during a meal or do as much as open their mouth while they chewed their food. I'll get angry with someone for chortling, get angry if someone clicks their pen one time too many, I would get pissed with someone for popping him around me. I tried to explain believe me I did I tried to tell my mother that I wasn't just trying to avoid dinner with the family and it certainly was not part of some teenage rebellious characteristics it was a real thing a kinda disorder (at least that's what the doctors say) but she and everyone else only look at me as though I was some little girl recounting her meeting with a ghost.
Mom has always liked a nice family dinner. She believed that having dinner separately was a sign of disunity amongst family members and so she'll always make a fuss whenever either of my brothers or myself tried to exempt ourselves from the dinner table, something I've been doing a lot lately, I mean, something I've been doing a lot for the past three years and yes mom's been pissed. It is for this reason I agreed to be present at our family thanksgiving dinner. "Angelica, you can't keep making excuses" she'd said. "The entire family will be there, your Aunt Elaine, your Uncle Rodger and all your cousins" (Little did she know that these were more reasons why I wouldn't want to be present in the first place). "You can't keep hiding in a hole 'cause of some... irritation. You have to get used to it, you have to learn to control it and you can't do that if you keep hiding. There'll always be people who chew with their mouth open, who click their pen and people who slurp when having their soup you know, you can't just stay in a hole for the rest of your life, so go get ready we're getting late".
Dinner was at my Aunt Elaine's house and the setting was very fancy, the lights from the chandelier glinting off the glass and silver wares on the table. Everyone was present as mom had said; there was Uncle Rodger a nice and chatty fellow. What I loved the most about him is his open-mindedness. He's one of those persons that'll listen to whatever you have to say and afterwards point out what you've gotten wrong and not just wrap up everything with the whole stereotypic belief that "teenagers always feel they know it all" stuff. He's very funny and he always has a lot to talk about. Sometimes I wonder how he got to be siblings with mom and Aunt Elaine. He came around with his wife Gina and his two daughters Cordelia and Scarlet. Mum's elder sister Aunt Elaine was already sitting at the table with her husband Jude and her kids Derek and Dalia.
Everything went on well until our meal was served and everyone started eating. Mom had taken my earphones earlier because she felt using earphones at a family dinner was a sign of disrespect to everyone on the dinner table and true as it was, I still felt like I needed those for my sanity. I watched as everyone ate freely not minding the effect their loud chewing was having on me (not that they knew though). I watched as Aunt Elaine's husband Jude laughed out loud with a chunk of chicken in his mouth joining in as the rest of the family sang an old tune. My brother Ted sitting beside me did his usual lip-smacking thing after having a drink of his juice. I watched him involuntarily as he chewed on his crunchy shrimps, the open and close motion of his mouth, the way his tongue slid out while he chewed producing this gross sound and I couldn't help but feel anxious, irritated and uncomfortable. I tried to pass a signal using exaggerated sighs and got the attention of my Aunt Elaine instead. "What's wrong dear?" she'd asked. Mom decided to step in and told them how I have been overreacting to little things like pen clicking for about three years now. Everyone stared at me as though I had fallen from the sky acting like what mom had said was a total taboo. "I don't understand can you explain dear" was Aunts response. But, how can I, how can I explain that common sounds like clicking, slurping, lip-smacking and gum popping, sounds that people barely notice sends adrenaline and cortisone pumping through my system, sending me into a realm of intense rage and anxiety giving me a full-blown panic attack. How do I explain that the harmless sight of a person chewing make me feel really unsafe? If I had said those things to you, would you believe me? I guess not. They didn't believe me either, as usual, they all stared at me like I was some little girl recounting her meeting with a ghost. To them, it seemed like a joke, just a little girl doing petty things to maybe draw attention, just some function of the raging teenage hormones something I could overcome with the right attitude.
This is the part where I succumbed to the urge to flee. It's so unfair you know, like, do allergies have to make sense? so far we'd just had to accept that it's real and be careful around those going through it. But how can everyone be okay with people being allergic to glucose and blueberries and.....raspberries but can't accept the fact that I have "specific sound selectivity syndrome" otherwise known as Misophonia? Yeah, that's the name, I finally found out what it was a few weeks ago thanks to my friend Chantelle. Sometimes I wonder how they think about these things. Do they think I feel okay with the fact that I can't go see a movie for the fear that someone behind me might chew loudly or that I have to change my seat multiple times when I'm out simply because someone is doing something as natural as popping gum? Do they think I won't get rid of this and be normal if I could?. Well, I guess I don't need to whine about this, I'm only one in a million teenagers going through stuff and people won't listen 'cause they feel it's just a part of the teenage hormone things.
My advice to everyone though, get the keys to your mind. Just because something seems weird doesn't make it surreal.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments