Post-Concussion Misophonia. A brass bird caused my misophonia

My husband over dinner: “Chew. Chew. Smack. Smack. Swallow. Swish. Grind. Clink.”

“Why are you chewing so loudly?!” I loudly gripe.

“It’s kale salad. You are making the same amount of noise I am.” He answers, aggravated.

As he chews, I hear “Slob-slob-sloberry sounds” filling my whole soundscape. Then my whole sensory landscape. I can see the saliva in my mind. I am pressed against the window in a car wash with rivers of mucus-ey saliva dripping down in front of my face.

My body screams “Flee! Flee! Escape!” As my heart races. I quickly slap my hands over my ears and yell “Stop that slop-slop-slobbering!” I can’t wait one second for him to stop, and bolt out of the room to get my noise-blocking headphones. Another dinner ruined.

I wasn’t always this way. Not until my concussion.