Micah's Wonder Shack

Warning: Mentions of trauma and abuse as a topic.

Salaam alaykum wa'rahmatullahi wa'barakatuh!
اَلسَلامُ عَلَيْكُم وَرَحْمَةُ اَللهِ وَبَرَكاتُهُ‎

If you couldn't tell by the fact that I sometimes dissociate so hard I forget who I am and that I wind myself up into a stress ball, I have quite a bit of trauma to deal with. Unfortunately I was diagnosed with PTSD in 2017. Which means that, I believe, this system that I find myself in is indeed a traumagenic one. Today, however, I want to quickly talk about one of the biggest ways it impacts me. Noise.

Due in part to that trauma and the situation surrounding it, noise is a very active trigger for my anxiety and - more prominantly - my fight and flight response. So I need background noise to be kept to a minimum, or at least consistent. By consistent I mean noise that is consistent in sound, say like white-noise, but not music. Music has beats, sections, and lyrics.

Now, I live in an apartment building. Herein lies the problem because other people don't understand, and if I'm being honest, don't care about these issues. It feels like to others, the trauma which has resulted in this PTSD and my sensitive hearing, is an annoying personality trait and not a physiological response to stress. Which is not great, and you would like to think that people would be understanding, but they don't seem to be.

My neighbours are sometimes very loud watching football, playing music, or - sometimes - getting into arguments and fights. The latter of which is extremely bad and when this happens, I can't, and usually don't, sleep. When someone is a light sleeper like myself, this is a massive problem because it takes upwards of a week to fix. Assuming no more incidents.

Additionally I live next to a very loud bar - who seemed very willful to negate COVID health restrictions - that has a license from the local council to play music up till 02:00 on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Which obviously doesn't help and they have refused to engage with me on any channel of communication.

I do have workarounds to this, and there are ways that I cope. Which I want to post about at some point. Though these do not remove the noise at all but instead masks it with that consistent noise. Here's why this works; the brain is listening for danger, and this danger is loud and infrequent, inconsistent, noise. When it hears something that it thinks is danger, it will panic and prepare to fight or die.

The obvious solution to this is to move out. This is where disability slams against the giant uncaring beast that is captialism. If people don't care about disability, then capitalism is completely apathetic, and will not support you in any way. I am planning to get a two bedroom apartment when my tenancy is up at my current place. However, this is typically more expensive and I still have to wait till that tenancy is over. Which means three more months of noise to cope with. Considering that, on average, disabled people have a smaller income this option of moving to a larger apartment, mightn't even be viable for some people.

Society in general doesn't really care about PTSD, triggers, or neurodivergency. In this case, people created the trauma, society made it worse, and now people continue to ignore very simple asks to make our quality of life infinitely better. Compassion is something that is in short supply. It seems...

I've lived with other people, alone, and with family. None of it has seemingly worked, the only thing that I think would work for me would be living by myself (or with partner) in a completely detached house in a quiet town. This is the ultimate dream, inshallah, some day I'll be able to fulfil it. Till then it will be an endless list of compromise on my part and coping mechanisms.

Salaam!

I wanted to talk about something that had happened to me this past week. I dissociate, hard, like never before. So much so that my hands felt alien and the mirror no longer resembled anything that would look like 'me'. This is a natural response to trauma, the brain shielding itself away from damage to protect itself.

I work as a software engineer, and it can be hard work at the best of times. Currently, I am the sole developer on a project, a new product we're launching, and it's a great opportunity! However, it can also be a tad stressful. I am not consciously stressed about it, the product is great, and I am super proud of my work. I feel that despite this, there's that subconscious pressure and stress. Furthermore, I've always been a bit of a perfectionist - perhaps a tactic by the brain to ensure that trauma doesn't happen again by being 'perfect' - so of course I'm going to have problems with my work and want to make it better. I need to stop myself and try to limit the stress.

When the dissociation got to its worst, Wednesday evening through Friday evening, I disappeared from social media. I didn't talk to anyone in my social circle, including my partner, during that time. Thinking about why, I think that the reason was that I simply didn't feel like myself any more. I, Micah, wasn't really present. I could see, but I couldn't really feel, and it felt like I was experiencing things through the proverbial poop periscope. Work got done, and we attended meetings, but I would have a hard time saying that I did that work.

Perhaps Micah is more complicated than a simple I. Maybe I, needs to become we. Thinking about it, I feel like sometimes there are perhaps more than one person who make Micah. During this period of deep dissociation, a part of us was missing, so Micah felt wrong and hard.

I suppose time needs to be taken to meditate on what caused this. Of course there are going to be factors outside our control, but thinking about it, this dissociation came hot off the heels of some news that I'd need to pay to replace a cracked window in my flat. By itself, this mightn't sound like a big deal, but there is some context needed. I am currently saving up money, so I can move to the Netherlands from England, where my partner lives. So I can move in with them.

Naturally, the money to replace is going to need to come out of this moving money. This flat is also far from perfect, located next to noisy neighbours and a loud pub directly outside. When I need quiet, or at least predictable sound, this means that there's going to be a constant level of stress. This combined with work, window, and generally not living in a great place, probably combined with some HRT stuff, created a recipe for dissociation.

I can't remember much of anything about my time during this period. I can't remember what I did at work really, or what I was doing. Playing Cyberpunk probably, creating this blog, and researching some plurality, Islam, and other stuff.

However, now I, Micah as I knew myself, is coming back. I feel more like me. I think a lack of sleep really didn't help with dissociation. Hopefully I've remedied this with some new bedding and a more firm pillow. Either way, I am coming back, and I feel happier. At the end of the day, that's the most important thing.