Gideon’s Challenge

Resigned Irritation

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You see that fly up there?   The one buzzing around that young buck’s fuzzy horns?

That is my air conditioner.

At the beginning of the summer, the drone of this piece of machinery in my house is a subtle irritant.  It brushes, prickly and uncomfortable, over the backs of my upper arms and shoulders.  I fight to block it out, to ignore it’s touch upon my skin and go about my day.

As a child, I didn’t realize that not everyone could feel certain sounds.  Feel them like a physical touch on the flesh or a flavor on the tongue.   When I tried to express my discomfort or describe certain sounds, people looked at me like I’d lost my mind and my parents, concerned there was something wrong with me, took me to many doctors and I went through many tests.

I’m a synesthete, though.  And it simply means that the wires connected to certain senses are a bit “crossed”.   Sometimes, I wish that wasn’t the case.

Especially with the air conditioner.

Because by the end of the summer, the need for the air conditioner is still as strong as ever, but the sound of it has become more than just a subtle irritant pushed away to the back of my mind in an effort to ignore it.   It’s a roaring inferno of needle pricks along the backs of my shoulders and upper arms.  Painful and raw and constant.

My “slow crawl through hell” is almost over for the year, but I wish it was already gone.

One thought on “Gideon’s Challenge

  1. You had this same irritation last year, yeah? I remember how badly it irritated you. Got under your skin. To the point that it became a physical discomfort…that endless noise.

    I know that what you really need is quiet. Peace. Though with the smoke and ash, being outside probably isn’t a thing you can really do for very long right now, I’d still suggest maybe a hike or just a few pictures at the park. Something where you can be away from that sound for awhile.

    And while at home, maybe some music with earbuds that will let you block out the sound for awhile and hear something different.

    I love you, angel. I know that irritant for you is more than the white noise most of us here and though I LOVE your crossed wires, I know it has to be uncomfortable. I’m sorry for that, love.

    Here’s to a quick fall and some nice, silent snowfall….

    Like

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