Driven to Distraction: The Hidden Causes of Misokinesia & Misophonia

This weekend I sat to read Dr Michelle Roberts' article on the BBC News about the psychological phenomena of misokinesia  - hatred of movements, and misophonia - hatred of sounds.*¹ While I read, Lucky, my sweet and stately Labrador, whose 10th birthday is also this weekend, sat close by, making mouth noises as I put it. This is when he repeatedly licks his teeth, or other body parts, or opens and closes his mouth in a way that makes squelching noises as saliva moves around. While I adore Lucky, when he does this, my love evaporates and I sometimes end up cursing not only his existence but the universe in general. When the sounds continue, I may hiss at him, “Stop the mouth noises!” 

At this point, my 12-year-old son will likely chime in, as though I’m half insane, “Dad, Lucky doesn’t understand!” 

“I know,” I answer, “that doesn’t stop it being annoying.” And so the cycle goes on.

The question: "Does the dripping tap bother you, or do you bother the dripping tap?" is often attributed to Zen teachings. I understand that my reactions to external events create my suffering rather than the events themselves, so I try to use Lucky’s noises as a meditative device. I try to listen and breathe through them, I try to accept them as a part of reality, to hear the sounds without judging, but it’s so damn difficult. Perhaps not surprisingly, it’s not just Lucky’s noises that get on my nerves - anyone eating loudly, conspicuously chewing gum or tapping their fingers will bring me to … write poetry about it.

In her article, Dr Roberts references research articles in PLOS*² and Nature Magazine*³ by Dr. Sumeet M. Jaswal, Drake Levere, Todd Handy, and Andreas De Bleser. She says that scientists are trying to understand what causes the phenomena of misokinesia and misophonia, but as yet they do not know the cause. In my case, I may have the answer though. I understand that my sensitivity to sounds and actions goes back to my annoyance at the way my father would eat soup - he couldn’t wait for it to cool and would hold the spoon about 5 cm in front of his mouth, and suck. The protracted slurping sounds would drive me mad. I didn’t feel able to ask him to stop so I would slurp my soup in response. My mother would ask: “Michael, do I have to have a double dose?” and I would reply with the deepest irony, “Yes Mum, it would seem so.” For a long time, my father also had a nerve issue in his arm that would cause him to repeatedly lick his fingers. Loving to hate it, I would grit my teeth and count the times he licked his fingers, almost wanting him to do it more. 

The thing is, my father had difficulty accepting me as I was, in the same way that his father was unable to accept him. They call this generational trauma. The resulting sense of shame that I wasn't quite fit for purpose stood against my urge to survive - so I needed to repress it. I chose to latch on to my father’s slurping and finger-licking as a way to safely express my existential anger, fear and pain. I believe this is the source of my ongoing misokinesia and misophonia. I wonder if this resonates with others.

sources:

*¹ ʰᵗᵗᵖˢ://ʷʷʷ.ᵇᵇᶜ.ᶜᵒᵐ/ⁿᵉʷˢ/ᵃʳᵗᶦᶜˡᵉˢ/ᶜ⁸ᵉʷˡ⁷⁵⁷ᵈ²ᵏᵒ

*² ʰᵗᵗᵖˢ://ʲᵒᵘʳⁿᵃˡˢ.ᵖˡᵒˢ.ᵒʳᵍ/ᵖˡᵒˢᵒⁿᵉ/ᵃʳᵗᶦᶜˡᵉ?ᶦᵈ⁼¹⁰.¹³⁷¹/ʲᵒᵘʳⁿᵃˡ.ᵖᵒⁿᵉ.⁰³¹³¹⁶⁹

*³ ʰᵗᵗᵖˢ://ʷʷʷ.ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ.ᶜᵒᵐ/ᵃʳᵗᶦᶜˡᵉˢ/ˢ⁴¹⁵⁹⁸⁻⁰²¹⁻⁹⁶⁴³⁰⁻⁴