How millions are left in agony by everyday noise

. . . and why one of the worst things they can do is to wear ear plugs

Recently, I went with a date to a film he had been wanting to see for ages. It was our third date and I was excited at the chance for a night out but, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but worry. And sure enough, 15 minutes into the film, the inevitable happened.

the film — Steve Jobs — was to me painfully loud. It wasn’t just a bit uncomfortable, it actually felt as if the words and music were piercing my head.

I had to hurry to the quiet of the ladies’ where I burst into tears. I spent the next hour in there recovering.

When the film ended, I found my date, Michael in the foyer. I was shaking and gripping my head. ‘It’s the pain,’ I explained.

He immediately took me to the nearest hospital. After an hour in A&e I was discharged with a bag of powerful painkillers.

It was not the first time that I have found myself so severely affected by noise and, I am afraid, it won’t be the last.

I suffer from hyperacusis, a severe sensitivity to sound. Since I developed the condition four years ago, incidents such as that at the cinema have become commonplace.

everyday sounds — running water, tapping on a computer keyboard, people chatting — can set off a range of symptoms from a sharp pain in my head to feelings of anxiety and tearfulness.

It has affected every part of my life. Just walking down a busy street is intolerable and most evenings I spend watching a DVD that I have to pause every so often because the sound gets too much.

Hyperacusis is a surprisingly common condition affecting around 6 million people (it is particularly common in children) although less than half of those will have it to the extent that I do.

JoHn Phillips, a consultant ear, nose and throat surgeon at the norfolk and norwich University Hospital, who has a special interest in the condition, explains: ‘Hyperacusis is an unusual intolerance to ordinary, everyday sounds.

‘People with hyperacusis experience uncomfortable, and sometimes painful, responses to common noises that under normal circumstances do not bother the rest of the population.

‘the theory is that the hearing system becomes more sensitive to sound, but we don’t know why. the symptoms can be triggered by a variety of noises and frequencies.’

typically, hyperacusis is a response to everyday noises.

‘For some this may trigger pain — a headache — but it can also cause feelings of distress or tearfulness,’ says Mr Phillips. ‘For some, it can impact life to the extent that they avoid normal activities and withdraw into a silent world. For others it can be a mild affliction.’

We now know that hyperacusis is linked to a variety of medical conditions, including migraine and lyme disease (a condition triggered by tick bites).

It can also affect those with tinnitus (permanent ringing or buzzing noises in their ear). Mental health disorders such as depression, anxiety, or even stress can also trigger or exacerbate it says Mr Phillips.

I can pinpoint the beginnings of my hyperacusis to a lunch with friends four years ago. We were all laughing and talking loudly, when I suddenly started to feel slightly sick. At first I thought I must have had a virus. there was a slight band of pain around my head and I felt confused and distressed.

I put it down to stress; I had just come out of a toxic six-year relationship and was looking after my mother who has severe dementia.

the pain then was not excruciating and seemed to come whenever I was tired or stressed. Within a year, however, I was in pain throughout the day and so tired I would have to rest for at least four hours a day.

I couldn’t go to supermarkets because the level of noise was distressing. chatting with friends became intolerable as their voices sent waves of pain through me.

I could not block out the background buzz of city life, traffic, children playing outside my flat, but I tried to ‘de-noise’ my house — putting such techno devices as my mobile phone on silent, as the ringing or even a ping heralding a new message would trigger sharp pain.

About a year ago, a friend kindly offered to take me to his cottage for the weekend but the traffic noise on the motorway was so bad, I was soon screaming with my head in my hands. We had to turn back home and I went to bed with an ice pack on my head.

My Condition has had a disastrous impact on my romantic life. Imagine having a date who asks you to turn off the car radio and begs to be taken to a quiet, empty restaurant. I never saw Michael again and I now realise that I am not interested in someone unless they have a bit of understanding.

the hyperacusis is so taxing that it also causes intense fatigue.

Despite the fact this condition has shut down my ability to lead a normal life, getting medical help has proved hard.

three years ago my symptoms got worse so I went to see my doctor. At first my symptons were put down to overwork and I was told to rest. I have also been diagnosed with a sinus headache, an ear infection, labyrinthitis and inflammation of the inner ear.

All the blood tests that I had came back normal and I was told that nothing could be done for me. I started to think it was all just my imagination.

According to Mr Phillips, my experience is typical as some doctors may not have even come across the term ‘hyperacusis’. My turning point came a year ago when a new GP referred me to a neurologist.

After I had listed all my symptoms, the neurologist diagnosed me with migraine and severe hyperacusis.

It was such a relief — I wasn’t mad after all.

there is no cure for hyperacusis. Most treatment begins in an ear, nose and throat (ent) unit (being referred to a neurologist as I was is unusual, and was only because I had such bad headaches).

treatments include sound therapy which involves using sound generators played at night just before you go to sleep which are meant to gradually reduce sensitivity to noise. the most commonly used sound is white noise, which sounds like a rushing or ‘shhhh’ noise.

other treatments include cognitive behavioural therapy (cBt), which aims to alter a patient’s reaction to life’s eventualities.

‘Where we identify that hyperacusis can have a psychological underpinning, psychological treatments can be effective in unpicking the patient’s stress responses to noise and talking through the underlying reasons for this,’ explains Mr Phillips.

My neurologist gave me amitriptyline, an antidepressant that increases the amount of the calming brain chemicals serotonin and noradrenaline.

I was told that this would help with the hyperacusis and the migraines as they can also be triggered by chemical inbalances in the brain.

THe pills have dulled the pain and I have been able to tolerate chatting to friends for an hour or so but they have also had side-effects; I wake up groggy, I have started grinding my teeth at night and they have also caused constipation and a dry mouth.

At least I can walk down the street wearing ear plugs when previously even this would have been beyond me. However Mr Phillips says the ear plugs are a bad idea: ‘It is one of the worst things you can do.

‘When you shut out sound, the brain reacts by increasing its sensitivity to be able to hear. this means that when you take the plugs out, the noise can be even louder, making the hyperacusis worse.’

And it is true — when I take mine out it is like the world has suddenly been switched on to full volume.

So, apart from having to wean myself off my ear plugs, I can now see a flicker of light at the end of my silent tunnel. My GP has referred me to a specialist clinic, and for cBt.

I am also practising mindfulness, where I quieten down my brain and try to curb negative feelings around sound, and that also seems to be helping.

Soon, I will emerge from my quiet life and resume all those things it is so easy to take for granted.