𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍

𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Living.

Let's talk about that, shall we?
What is living?
Breathing, Eating, Walking,Freedom, etc.
Yes. But really, what's the purpose of it?

Why were we born as tiny little fetuses only to wait for 17 years so we could walk alone in this such loud world?

Of course you've heard of this question before, almost every human asks about it.
Different answers but too complex.

What I like to simplify is that we live for a balance in the universe. But again, how do I balance if everything is falling apart?

Waking up at 7 in the morning. I'm not the biggest fans of routines but then again I have to. Slippers were gone, don't know where they went but those big fluffy greys aren't hard to spot. It was on the side of my closet, lying there. Fluffy grey slippers aren't really a massive thing to worry in the morning, but the sound of the slippers against the wooden floor creaks are comforting.

If you don't know me, Hi.
I'm Camille Laurent Bloom. But, Eden, that's the name I want you to call me. I was completely normal at the age of day 1 till 5 years old but then I was diagnosed with the disorder of Misophonia. It's like hatred towards annoying sounds. Not only hatred, but loving too. I get so obsessed with sounds. It's crazy. I'm crazy.

It didn't became as big deal back then, but it gets crazier when I grew. I was 10 years old, my stupid uncle decided to bring balloons, the party itself was loud. Not too loud, I was handling it perfectly. But those stupid squeaking balloons had to made my mood turn, again I handled it. I told to myself to not try to be a bitch and ignore it.

It then blew up.
I knew I was going crazy after that.

I fell on the floor, rolling myself while my hands covered my ears. I remembered I hated my own scream, but I kept doing it. Not knowing how to stop myself.

I somehow forgot how to breath, the sudden pop ruined a beat in my heart. It's like a symphony loosing one rythm. I kept telling myself, I don't want to die in the age of 10 years old just because a shit balloon popped.

I even went to a isolation room, but that didn't make me better. It made me feel like I was a wanted psychopath, and white walls aren't my thing. Too bright and too dramatic. It makes you crazier.

After that incident, no parties. Only dinner.
Still annoys me with their horrible chewing sounds and metal spoons against the plate.

That's why I carry a white earplug, it helps me.
Music was another saver. Not all music, music that doesn't involve stupid lyrics and horrible melodies. It's not about genre's at all, I even listen to screaming heavy metal musics some of them are actually good. Music that involves pianos and orchestra are my forté. Not specifically classic, but whatever calms me more.

I was dressed. The next thing to do was walk myself to the bus station. My apartment in Seattle wasn't far from Uni so taking public transportation cost way more cheaper. Sacrifices for the annoying sounds, but plugged in earphones helps very much.

You might've asked, what is the thing that really bothers you so much about these sounds?

It doesn't bother me if I could control it. Such as musics, if I hated it, I could just skip it to the next song or pause it. But the sounds that surrounds me that I can't control, I can't control someone over their chewing sounds or how they speak. I can't control squeaking chairs or loud engine roars, I can't even control my body on how to react to those sounds. My body couldn't handle it, it was like my body decided to kick out my mind and operates on its own. I can't control things. That's what makes me crazy.