I wouldn’t want to lose a number of the things I own. My wedding and engagement rings, obviously. My signed edition of Terry Pratchett’s The Wee Free Men. Certain pieces of clothing or jewelry. But one of those things that a lot of people might not guess holds such importance is a pair of headphones.
A pair of comfortable, Bluetooth-capable, noise-cancelling headphones.
Typing. Chewing. Floorboards creaking above my head. Excessive bass from the car down in the apartment parking lot1 or some kind of noisy exhaust situation from the car speeding up and down the nearby street when I’m trying to sleep.
These are a few of the sounds that can cause something scary to rise up inside me. It looks a little like panic, a little like rage, and a lot like my fight or flight response has been activated. My first instinct is usually to get outta there. If that’s not an option because of social expectations, I have to try to keep a lid on it so I don’t snap at anybody. It leaves me feeling ragged, as though I’ve been trampled by a herd of dogs. If you’ve had a small creature put all their weight on one tiny paw on top of some vulnerable part of you, you may have some idea of what I’m talking about. It’s a very concentrated sort of trampling.
In some instances, covering those sounds with other sounds works. I might eat the same thing someone else is eating, even though I don’t want it, because it’s particularly loud. A TV show or music can solve the problem. These solutions are a bit hit or miss, though. They rely heavily on timing, for example. If I run out of crunchy things before someone else runs out of crunchy things, they’ll be crunching away while I’m left with nothing to do but listen.
But sometimes there is another option. Sometimes. If I’ve prepared appropriately and in an environment where the people surrounding me understand that I’ve got all this going on, there can be another option. And it’s those headphones. Those comfortable, Bluetooth-capable, noise-cancelling headphones.
Sometimes I’ll just wear the headphones with noise-cancelling on and no other sound coming through them, in which case I can more or less hear bigger, more immediate sounds. People talking to me, say. In more dire cases I will put on music, or a soothing soundscape from the myNoise app or website (https://mynoise.net).
Being able to escape from these sorts of sounds tends to keep my mood more even and balanced. I’m not sure if I’ve imparted the degree to which sound can affect me; it has led to running from the house crying. There have been explosions2 and shutdowns. Sensory issues are not a joke.
Some of the people close to me are getting used to seeing my put them on. I think3 that they have learned it’s nothing personal, I’m not mad about the noise, and I’m not being rude by shutting them out. Instead, I’m protecting us both from a Laura-in-an-Extremely-Bad-and-Overwhelmed-Mood Event.
I like to imagine that in the future I will be able to slip them on any time I feel the need. But I’m not sure that will ever quite be true. I think I’m facing a long future of trying desperately to hold in my emotions until I’m in a safe space. But whenever I can, I will turn to my comfortable, Bluetooth-capable, noise-cancelling headphones.
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1 I personally believe that I should not be able to feel your music from my living room on the seventh floor.
2 Not literal explosions, okay?
3 I hope.
Those earphones sound¹ like a life saver. It’s funny how a noise that we choose to create or simply turn on, can be perfectly acceptable and soothing, while another, coming from close,or even far away, can feel overwhelming and like a purposeful intent to intrude. I can fall asleep with a comedy podcast blaring away a foot from my head, or through my own, cheap headphones, but a TV down the hall at a lower volume would keep me awake until it is shut off.
Working in an open concept² environment where phone calls, conversations, persistent coughing and nose blowing seem to echo, I may be reaching out to you for the name brand of your safe-space-creating miracles.
1 Can’t pass up the pun
2 A form of torture imposed by sadistic, tone-deaf, oblivious office “designers”