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    Misophonia Matters: An Advocacy-Based Approach to Coping with Misophonia for Adults, Teens, and Clinicians
    Misophonia Matters: An Advocacy-Based Approach to Coping with Misophonia for Adults, Teens, and Clinicians
    Misophonia Matters: An Advocacy-Based Approach to Coping with Misophonia for Adults, Teens, and Clinicians
    Ebook172 pages1 hour

    Misophonia Matters: An Advocacy-Based Approach to Coping with Misophonia for Adults, Teens, and Clinicians

    By Shaylynn Hayes-Raymond

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    About this ebook

    Misophonia Matters is an advocacy-based coping skills approach for adults, teens, and clinicians by long-time advocate Shaylynn Hayes-Raymond. Shaylynn has been advocating for misophonia since 2015 and moved to a career in counselling based on her experiences as a misophonia advocate and sufferer of the disorder. The Misophonia Matters approach includes advocacy, psychoeducation, sensory-based skills, and cognitive and psychological skills. Worksheets are presented throughout the book. Central to Misophonia Matters is the idea that while we cannot treat and prevent misophonia, we can learn to navigate and adapt to our world through accommodation, coping skills, and an empathetic advocacy-based approach. A class based on the Misophonia Matters book will be offered through The International Misophonia Foundation.

    A review for Shaylynn Hayes-Raymond's other work, Full of Sound and Fury: Living With Misophonia;

    "Being able to read the words of other sufferers, including the writer, helps me feel so much less alone, knowing there are many people who struggle with the same condition in so many similar ways. Knowing that there is someone advocating and pushing for research to be done for us, humbles me and gives me hope that maybe something will be done to help treat these conditions in my lifetime." - Tanya Curtis

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherShaylynn Hayes-Raymond
    Release dateMar 1, 2024
    ISBN9781990467127
    Misophonia Matters: An Advocacy-Based Approach to Coping with Misophonia for Adults, Teens, and Clinicians
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      Book preview

      Misophonia Matters - Shaylynn Hayes-Raymond

      Dedication

      Thank you to Jennifer Jo Brout for our work together as advocates and for everything you taught me about misophonia.

      Thank you to Susan Nesbit for allowing me to use her sensory diet and explanation of Sensory Integration and Sensory Processing Disorder as part of this book.

      Thank you to my husband Preston Raymond and my mother and father Michelle and Roderick Hayes for all your support and understanding of misophonia—I know this is not easy for you.

      Introduction

      At nineteen years old , I lost my ability to fully take part in the world around me. Unlike common sensory impairments, I did not lose my ability to hear, smell, or see. Instead, I suffer from a condition that amplifies each of these. When I touch, when I look, I am feeling everything around me—and it does not feel pleasant. Imagine you are trapped with the same sound for hours. A slow torture will begin to encapsulate your body. For sufferers of misophonia, a strange yet real condition, this torture is immediate. From the drop of a fork, or the slight pitch of a whistle, we are derailed.

      Those that have not heard of misophonia are often surprised by the condition. Some are perplexed by its nature and have trouble believing that it is more than an annoyance.

      For sufferers of misophonia, we are confronted with an immediate fight/flight response to otherwise normal sounds and visuals.

      When I first discovered my condition, I went through many emotions. The first was relief that I was not crazy. This was quickly followed by dismay. While I did have a name for the disorder, there was no cure. Soon, my dismay turned to frustration. Information on my disorder, when available, was often wrong or even blatantly manipulative. Charlatans were capitalizing off Google, Wikipedia, and the editors at sites as big as WebMD were not paying attention to scientists. I spent the first year of this disorder wondering what would come of everything—if there was no cure and no one was paying attention, I did not know how I was supposed to keep going.

      Advocating for an unknown condition is multifaceted. For some, my story has become a beacon, and my efforts are a force to be reckoned with. To many, I have become a symbol of hope. I often feel shame when I sit in my worst moments, void of promise and inspiration. While others look up to me, I spend many moments lost in my own dreariness. The truth is that I am uncomfortable with any idolization for my actions. I am an advocate not for notoriety, but for the ultimate end goal. I am an advocate because I hope for a world in which people like me can walk freely on the streets or have dinner in a restaurant.

      While stigma is still a problem for many disorders, I have never had as hard of a time as I do with my disorder that is completely unknown. If I must explain my ADHD, Anxiety, or Depression to others, I can point them to research studies—to evidence and proof that these disorders are real. For misophonia, these studies are happening, but at a slow pace, and while there is no treatment, research has accumulated in the last six years.

      I do not mind being an advocate for my disorder. It is invigorating to know that my day-to-day work may have an impact on my own life and that of current and future sufferers. However, that does not mean I am not tired. I am tired of typing and saying the same sentences over and over. I am tired of having to justify my disorder whenever I meet a new person. I am tired of explaining why I cannot go to restaurants, or why jingling keys, tapping hands, or whistling turn me into a nightmare—crying and all.

      When I first discovered what misophonia was, I had an entirely different story to tell. I was relieved there was a name. I was also scared that I had a disorder that seemed to be under-researched and would be at risk of being stigmatized.

      Most people that I have talked to with misophonia have been suffering since they were children. However, I am one of the late bloomers. Regardless of when it came to be, misophonia is an extremely isolating disorder. I was 16 when I showed my first symptoms, but they were not strong. It was not until 19 when the full force of misophonia hit me like a freight train. Since then, I have felt its wrath clasp around my throat, taking over several aspects of my life. My first blog post on misophonia was written before I even knew there was a name—before I had anything to go on. I remember writing in frustration, tears not far off, as I wondered why I was so messed up? Why, all of a sudden, I was having so much trouble with sights and sounds? When I first came across misophonia, I described it as ruining my life. I did not understand why, but these everyday movements and sounds were turning normal situations into a terrible prison.

      I attributed my first triggers to an anxiety disorder as well as major depressive disorder. Small movements or rocking back and forth were enough to cause near panic attacks. If a desk was not sitting on the floor properly, I would lose it. If a classmate was making loud, distracting noises, I would complain to the teacher. It did not always get me far, but if they did not help, I would leave. I was not the most attentive student in high school.

      On January 27th of 2014, I wrote a blog post expressing my confusion and rage regarding what I now know as misophonia. Please bear in mind that this was written before I had any idea about misophonia. The title was I Do Not Know What To Do. Below, it is recopied in full.

      When I first came to university, I did not remember why I had been so distracted and annoyed in high school. Homework is not hard; the reading is fine. What I cannot deal with is the burden that my anxiety can be in a classroom environment. Half of the time I have a scowl on my face in class and probably come off as a bit of a condescending witch. Whenever people whistle, click their pen, or shake their legs, it is extremely distracting for me and for a reason I cannot explain it sends me into a horrible state. Leg twitching in my peripheral vision has literally brought me to tears. I am so frustrated that I cannot just get over it. I understand restless leg syndrome is a real thing but so is the anxiety that I suffer every time I enter a classroom. I understand that it would be rude to approach somebody and ask them to please stop torturing me.

      Instead, I often stew and try not to get upset, but instead I usually just end up irrationally angry. Oftentimes I can actually feel the vibrations on the floor from people shaking behind me, even if they are far away. A couple of weeks ago, I started hyperventilating when somebody was whistling. Why? The sharp noise was so unbearable to me. I honestly do not know what I am supposed to do about this. Breathing exercises, telling myself it is out of my control and thinking positive are hopeless. I do not want to constantly glare at my friends like they are the worst thing in the world just because they are shaking their feet. I am actually sorry it bugs me this much, but I cannot stop. Sometimes I find myself sitting in my room anxious about going to class just because of my triggers. I just feel alone in this and that I must sound ridiculous to others. Aside from hiding in my room wearing ear plugs and only ever communicating via Skype, I am unsure of a fix to this.

      My first real trigger was whistling. I would go into a rage and nearly cry whenever I was faced with it. Some people would whistle on purpose, because they did not understand the severity of my reaction. I remember being upset for hours after this would happen, and that confused me significantly. Then, one day, my mother’s foot-shaking really started to bother me. Soon after, the sound of singing and country music really sent me over the edge. This caused many fights and much confusion. Why was I so intolerant? It made no sense to me.

      While there are many common triggers that seem to arise in numerous people, not everybody has the same triggers. We are not all the same, so that makes it even harder to raise awareness. However, regardless of what a person is triggered by, we are still triggered, and it can be very disorienting. There is no logical reason to freak out—we can feel crazy, guilty, and downright ridiculous. It is full of fury. The simple clicking of a pen can feel like we are trapped in a cavern with a jackhammer. Melodrama aside, I believe that a good life is possible with misophonia and even more possible with the right coping skills. I am no longer afraid of misophonia, and I truly believe that there is much hope to be had!

      The International Misophonia Foundation (IMF) is a project that is of great importance to me, Shaylynn Hayes-Raymond. As

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