Full of Sound and Fury

Cactus's older brother has been studying Macbeth. It's 40 years since I covered it at school myself, but being a bit of an English Lit geek I've dredged up all the quotes and passages lodged in the crevices of my mind. To much teenage eyerolling I recited the full "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow..." soliloquy in the car the other morning, trying to make the point that the language is so moving and memorable that it will stay with me forever (and, frankly, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to show off).

"Full of Sound and Fury" is also the title of a book about Misophonia by Shaylynn Hayes which is written from the point of view of a Misophonia sufferer and aims to give an insight into living with and managing the condition. Witty, readable and highly recommended as a good introduction for parents, carers, schools and teens.

Of course, the title immediately caught the attention of my inner Shakespeare nerd. But the phrase is a perfect summary of Cactus's life. Particularly the fury.

It's hard to describe the level of anger and rage that she experiences when triggered by sounds or movements. If there was an anger scale from 1-10 with mild annoyance at one end and murderous rage at the other, Misophonia sufferers are sent straight to the highest level in a heartbeat by each and every trigger. They talk about wanting to punch or stab people, wanting to rip off faces or pull off heads. It's that extreme, and it's almost impossible for those of us with rational filters and thought processes to comprehend. But as Shaylynn says, "rationality plays no part with Misophonia".

When was the last time you were really angry? I'm talking about white hot, seething, "can I have a word" rage. The kind that you feel viscerally, that makes your hair stand on end and your temperature surge, the kind that banishes rational thought and peripheral vision, narrowing your focus so you can't think about anything other than The Thing that has caused your fury. Can you remember how that felt? Can you remember how exhausting it was to hold that anger, and the monumental strength it took not to lash out or do something dangerous or say something inappropriate? Can you remember the physical jolt you felt hours or even days later when you talked or thought about The Thing, as your body's safety systems responded to the memory as if to a new threat? Can you?

Congratulations, you score about a 5, possibly a 6, on the Miso Fury scale.

The level of screaming, crying, swearing, door-punching anger Cactus and others like her feel is hard to witness, but infinitely harder to live with. The superhuman effort she makes to get up every day, go out there and expose herself to a world of hurt is astonishing. She has a formidable inner strength that I can barely imagine, and for all my tiger claws and rhino skin I know I will never have that level of fierce resilience.

She is angry but she is amazing. She is awesome. And I am in awe.

Perhaps the final word should go to Lady Macbeth, who knew a thing or two about fury and digging deep to find inner strength:

“Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.”