Can You Overcome Misophonia?
Living proof that healing is slow, real, and entirely possible.
Today, I found myself browsing the Misophonia subreddit — a place I hadn’t explored much before. To my surprise, the community was large and active, with over 80,000 members and several new posts just within the past day. As I scrolled through, one post caught my eye. It was titled: “Has anybody overcome misophonia?”
The question struck a chord with me. At its core, it wasn’t just asking about treatments or coping strategies. It was asking something much deeper: Can I ever feel normal?
The person behind the post was searching for a cure — for a way to function in society without the constant burden of being triggered by everyday sounds. As someone who has lived with (and eventually overcome) misophonia, I felt compelled to reflect on this.
I skimmed through the comments. Many users shared their own experiences: some talked about what worsened their symptoms, others offered tips — like dietary changes, exercise, or medication. One person even recommended a book that helped them. The discussion was honest and varied, showing how different the path to relief can be for everyone.
I didn’t comment — at least not yet. But perhaps this blog post will serve as my response.
Yes, I Believe Misophonia Can Be Overcome
To what degree? That depends on the person and what they consider tolerable. But I genuinely believe that it’s possible to live a full life, even with misophonia.
My own journey began when I was very young. The symptoms started in kindergarten. The first sound that triggered me was burping. It didn’t matter if it was in person or on TV — the effect was the same: anxiety, anger, and disgust.
Soon, more triggers followed. Chewing, smacking, slurping, breathing — everyday human sounds began to feel unbearable. At first, I could manage. I’d ask my family not to burp during meals. But soon, even being around them while they ate became impossible.
And here’s something strange I noticed: my misophonia was always worst with those closest to me. My brother triggered me the most, followed by my parents, then my extended family. Strangers didn’t affect me as strongly. I don’t fully understand why — maybe it's because of the emotional closeness — but the pattern was clear.
Eventually, it went beyond food. The sound of sheets rustling in bed began to drive me insane. My sleep suffered. The condition was taking over my life.
By the time I was 12 or 13, things had reached a breaking point. I couldn’t eat with my family. I dreaded being around my brother. I was constantly on edge, terrified he’d make a sound that would send me into a spiral. If I got triggered, I’d either cry or lash out — and both reactions left me feeling ashamed.
From Isolation to Recovery
Looking back, the months leading up to when I overcame my misophonia were the worst of my life. I couldn’t function. I had hit what felt like rock bottom — emotionally, mentally, and socially. I often wonder how it could’ve gotten worse, but the truth is, I was already living in a kind of mental hell. Every day was shaped by dread and avoidance. The simple act of being near people — especially those I loved — felt unbearable.
And now?
Now, I’m sitting in a coffee shop, writing this, fully present and functioning. I’m planning a move with my brother — the same brother whose breathing, chewing, or even existing nearby once overwhelmed me. We eat together often, casually and comfortably. I attend family gatherings. I laugh, I listen, I stay.
In many ways, I appear completely “normal.” Even those who witnessed how difficult things once were — my parents, extended family — seem to have forgotten what life used to be like for me. And that’s something I never expected: not just recovery, but normalcy.
But I haven’t forgotten. And maybe that’s why I feel compelled to write this — not just to offer hope, but to remind myself of what’s possible.
Misophonia used to consume me. Now, it’s something I live with quietly, almost in the background. It shaped me, yes — but it no longer controls me.
Final Thoughts
So, to anyone reading this who feels hopeless, who feels like their world is shrinking: I’ve been there. I get it. And while I won’t pretend that overcoming misophonia is easy or quick, I can tell you this — it is possible.