Vain attempts to cure myself

For months I kept a portable radio on me so I could listen to the static. It was like candy for my ears. I showered 2 or 3 times a day for the blissful masking effect of the water. I bought every type of small radio I could find. I got so sick of explaining to people why I had earphones on. Even when at university during lectures I had to wear them. I must have looked like a bloody lunatic. Sometimes the radio would pick up a signal instead of white noise and the whole class would look at me. People always regard me as something af an oddity so most didn't bat an eyelid.

I barely survived many sleepless nights full of anxiety attacks and panic attacks. I tried a few sleeping pills until I discovered the magic of Stilnox. 30 months later I still thank the gods for them. I have tried to wean off but am terrified of returning to the nights of hell and torment I endured while willing myself to sleep.I must have spent about a year in absolute depression... and not the chemical imbalance one... I'd like that one... at least there's medication (I tried anti-depressants but they all made me feel a hundred and thiry-five times worse... WORSE... omigod how freaking bad did I feel... holy crap... note to myself... never ever ever take another anti-depressant!!!!!!!!!!!).

My wife could not understand the depth of sheer despair I was experiencing and I was protecting her by not sharing. People tell me that I should have. There's nothing anybody can do to help me so there is no real point in sharing the pain with them. I am very empathetic to the pain of others. I can't watch the news because I feel too much sorrow for the victims of tragedy. The sympathy of others doesn't help. I have tinnitus and it's my problem. I have tinnitus... you don't have to worry about. I like it that other people can't hear what I do. I love it that my kids can go to sleep and not hear this cursed siren.