The next train at platform 3 is a high-speed express and does not stop at this station. Please stand Well Clear of the platform edge
My beloved laughs at me as I press myself hard against his coat and cover my ears with my palms, fingers splayed tensely like little red squirrel tufts. It has always been this way.
I dont like noise.
Im bad at it.
As a child, bonfire night would be spent at the living room window tucked under the comforting arm of my mother. While my siblings played with their friends by the bonfire in the communal gardens behind our house, I sat watching the pretty colours and shrinking from the horrible noises, my palms pressed tightly over my ears.
On the morning train I get driven to distraction by a person eating an apple 12 seats away. At work the sound of someone chewing gum on the next desk squelches its way into my brain. At night I now cant sleep without a fan on, displacing other noises with its white fuzzy brrrrrr. I wont eat in the work canteen any more because the sound of all the people talking at once, the cutlery against the plates, the dishes being washed in a back room, all of it, all of it at once means that without staring very hard at their lips, I cant concentrate on what my companions are saying. I feel like I can hear everything, all at once, all the time. It is annoying. I was reminded of thi while reading Peet the other day, in fact. Many similarities – though I havent been diagnosed with nothin. Obv.
But loud noises are the worst, they fill my head until I think it just might burst.
Which is why it made me laugh to see some more of the pictures that mr lovely seeeester scanned from the family photobxes over Crimble.
I sent them in an email to my beloved, subject headed You think this not liking noise is a NEW thing?
I like the second one particularly. The fact that my brother and sister are standing around just shooting the shit, and Im behind them, shoulders around my chin, looking for all the world like a bomb has just gone off.
And yes, I know, between the ages of about 8 and 11 I looked like a boy