My cousin had a very mellow bachelorette party before she got married. It was nice for a change. Relaxing meals, friendly conversation, a true day for the girls – which is what it is supposed to be.
After dinner we went back to someone’s apartment and we played a game where someone asks a question and everyone else writes down their answer. Then the answers get folded and the asker of the question has to guess whose response is whose. And the asker then gets a point for every answer she gets right. Good, clean fun.
One of the questions that was asked was “What is your pet peeve?”
I thought about it for a second.
People who didn’t use their turning signal? No, that was more of just an annoyance.
People who talked on their cell phone in restaurants? Not really. Let their private conversation be public for all I care.
People who chew gum loudly? We may be on to something. Chewing like a cow? Yep. There it is. That is the one thing that makes my skin crawl.
So I wrote down “people who don’t eat well.”
That was the wrong way to phase that. The asker guessed it was me because … I don’t really know…because I look extremely skinny? (People are surprised to find out how much I actually weigh because it’s always 20-30 more pounds than they guess – I’m not bragging; just trying to point out that I am not as skinny as people think I am.)
Well, people made the comments about how they would annoy me because they – essentially – hated fruits and veggies and loved chocolate. I’m not arguing there. I’d take a Milky Way over a carrot any day.
No, what I’m talking about is people who chew loudly when they eat.
“Like when they eat an apple or chips?’
No. I’m totally okay with crunchy foods. Crunch away! That’s not what I’m talking about.
People with poor manners really make me want to cry.
Chew with your mouth open? I want to scratch my eyeballs out.
Move your tongue too much while you’re chewing? I’m going to peel my ears off.
Slurp your soup? I’d rather have the boiling liquid poured over the bottom of my feet.
It sounds crazy, I’m fully aware. It’s called Selective Sound Sensitivity Syndrome – or misophonia – and I’m not the only one afflicted, I promise.
When it first started, I couldn’t deal. But over time, I learned who I shouldn’t sit next to at the dinner table. I found I could control my anxiety more when chewing culprits had their mouths closed.
Those who love me try extra hard when I am around to mind their chewing habits, which I appreciate immensely every single time. They learned not to take it personally when I asked them to chew a little quieter.
It still makes me absolutely crazy at times. After a bad day, the last thing I can handle is that noise.
Want to read more about it? See below.
There’s a girl who is afflicted with SSSS to badly that she cannot stand the sound of her mother’s voice and her mother can’t talk when she is around. Those on the outside looking in may think this is crazy, but it’s really painful to those who have it.