Summary
In this special scripted episode, I reflect on my recent journey with tinnitus.
Music provided by: Storyblocks
To read along:
Ringing In The Long Dark
In the deep recesses of the Midwest, there lies a place filled with restless spirits and unspeakable evil. At least, that’s what they told us.
To me, it seemed like a collection of creepy dolls, questionable grammar, and objects that may or may not have been picked up from Goodwill that week. So when we reached the basement, and I found myself in front of a large statue of Baphomet with a spot for offerings, I treated it like a bit. I dropped my dollar, and that was that.
Months later, standing frozen at work with a ringing in my ear, I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind: Did I just invite something in? The reality? It was far less dramatic and more terrifying.
I remember the moment happening right around the end of January. I had been battling a sickness that was lingering since Christmas break.
What the hell was happening? It sounded like an electric device on the fritz. I looked around the room and up at the bright, white ceiling. “Are you there, Baphomet? It’s me, Jeremy. You can cut the shit now.”
I left the room just to confirm what I had already feared. There was no device. The ring was coming from inside of me. What about the podcast or silent writing moments? Oh God. I had to calm myself. I didn’t even know the cause, and certainly not the permanence of it. I took a breath and began to think new thoughts. How could I have gotten here?
I’ve always had a very special relationship with music, thanks to my sister being an influence growing up. She introduced me to lots of great bands at the time, and we watched plenty of MTV. My parents weren’t huge into music, but I had some influence from some oldies compilation CDs they had lying around, and most certainly from my Mom’s love of The Beatles.
Eventually, I developed my own tastes and was proud to have owned albums from the likes of Weird Al, Fatboy Slim, and plenty of great 90’s rock. I was not so proud to have owned albums from the likes of Aqua, Savage Garden, and Chumbawamba. As a kid, though, a catchy tune was a catchy tune. If the single was great, surely the whole album could be. I really had no shame, and some would argue taste.
As I grew older, my love of listening evolved as my awesome sister would start taking me to concerts. I still remember going to the Warped Tour for the first time. For those familiar with Milwaukee, this was back when it was still at The Rave. Yeah, I’m pretty old. Anyway, the point is, it was magic. Multiple stages, extreme sports, and I even got to meet some artists. I remember someone from The Bouncing Souls coming up to me and asking me to say “Bouncing Souls are fucking awesome!” in front of a camera. I didn’t do it. I was far too shy. What a missed opportunity! If anyone from the band is reading or listening now, sorry! You’re awesome!
I loved live music, but did I attend more concerts than the average person? Enough to accelerate this issue? No way, man. Yeah, I can remember trying to get up front for a lot of shows, and no, I never wore any hearing protection, but it’s not like I was in the fucking band.
I snapped back to reality for a moment. Maybe I didn’t need to go over my entire life history. I was definitely overthinking, but I just couldn’t help myself.
My relationship with music didn’t end there. As soon as I knew what headphones were, there were lots of moments filled with music blasting in my ears. And I mean blasting. I used to think that if the volume goes that high, it must be designed to be listened to. Even when I knew better, louder just got me more amped up. Who wants to run to music that sounds like it’s being played in an elevator? I needed to feel it in my veins.
I didn’t know what I was dealing with, but the thought that something I loved so much could have contributed made me sad. I sighed. If I was being honest, it actually wasn’t so much the music, it was me. I could’ve tried to do more to protect my ears. I had no choice but to try to forgive myself and move forward. I, of course, knew how all this worked. This one just really fucking stung.
I continued on with the rest of my work for the evening. The Long Dark, sickness, and now this? The funny thing is, I was actually feeling very optimistic headed into this particular Winter season. Time away was going to be great; work was becoming a grind, and I was excited by the idea of some projects lined up that I planned on working on. On top of that, the break kicked off with a trip to a really cool historic car & other neat memorabilia museum. It should have been the perfect recharge. Instead, a weird feeling falling over me after the trip, full-blown sickness during Christmas, and then the eventual ringing journey.
When I got home, I did one of the worst things that a person in this situation can do: I doom scrolled and did my own internet “research”. I read threads on Reddit, mostly horror stories. People saying things like, “Developed a ringing and my life sucks now! I envy all of those who still know true silence!”. I also searched for medical information, doing the classic move of running down the list of causes and thinking of every possibility. I got so desperate at a certain point, I even tried turning to AI; something I once thought was the enemy.
Back in my room, at the end of that panicked evening, I wondered if sleep would be a problem. There was also a tinge of hope left that maybe by morning it would just be gone, like a quick glitch in a game.
The next morning, as I got my bearings, I was greeted to the familiar “eeee” sound. I remember being young and hungover, lazing in bed, hating the sound of birds. Now? I would have given anything for just the birds.
The exact timeline is hazy now, but I believe I gave it just under a week before I decided I needed to call a doctor. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started getting over the whole pick up a phone and get checked out thing. It was probably sometime after my knee issue. I came to the conclusion that the build-up is usually worse and this wasn’t so bad. I also decided that getting info whether good, or not so good, beats not living. Living is good.
In the week leading up to the doctor visit, of course, I spiraled. I went to work, scrolled some more pages, and even started to do some weird decongestant exercises that I saw on YouTube. It was from some new age type of channel. The moves were a series of strange rubbing motions on my face and lots of nose blowing. I’m not even trying to knock this stuff. It could have some positive effects, or even some actual evidence, but this is just an example of some of the ridiculous lengths my brain would go.
When the day of the doctor visit finally arrived, I was still in my head, yet also had some relief in knowing that I’d gain more info and get some peace of mind either way. I explained my situation to the doctor, that I was pretty damn sick at the time, but also have not been kind to my ears in the past. His suggestion was for me to take an oral steroid every day for a week, and get back to him if it didn’t help.
That week began with lingering congestion. I didn’t think my nose was ever going to clear up or stop running at certain points. I tried to distract myself as much as I could. Normally, a long walk could help, but it was brutally cold, and it would have taken some inspirational miracle spark of some kind to get my ass out there. David Goggins would’ve had to come to my house and scream in my face while dragging me.
The next best thing was to just veg out and play video games. Well, the next best thing was probably just another form of activity, like hitting the treadmill or using literally any item I had inside my exercise room. I chose video games, though, what can I say? It was a struggle, and while it didn’t provide me with any movement, it was an excellent distraction. Within just a few minutes of getting into a game, it was like, “What ringing?”
The week limped along. My distractions mostly worked. I watched a few YouTube videos about the topic, but it never became an insane rabbit hole. With each day, I’d wake up and wonder, could this be the morning of silence? By the weekend, with a still ringing ear, I stopped asking that question. My wishful thinking was turning into something else. I knew it was time to schedule a follow-up.
I was really getting annoyed with all the visits I was making to my doctor. Not long before all of this, I was in the office for a separate issue. Of course, that issue involved seeing a specialist, so it wasn’t just the one visit. It was the visit, then follow-up, then wait for the specialist…you get my drift.
During this visit, he seemed a bit puzzled by my appearance. Did he not say, follow-up with him in a week if the ringing persisted? Was I supposed to call and leave a message? Wait, was I? I didn’t know how all this worked. Before all these recent health issues, I missed a lot of yearly check-ups, and had no other reason to go to a doctor. Stupid to not get checked up? Maybe, but that’s not the point.
I sat there a bit puzzled myself, waiting for more. He asked me if I had scheduled an appointment with the ENT doctor and basically said I was kinda just shit outta luck.
Um, what? Couldn’t he have just sugar-coated it a little bit? Okay, it wasn’t like he actually said, “shit outta luck”, but he may as well have said that. He could have even just straight-up lied to me. I would’ve been okay with that.
I made the call to the ENT office as soon as I could. Even if they didn’t have great news either, it would still be news. It would help me move forward. I was feeling a sense of urgency; the rest of the world apparently was not. I would not be able to get an appointment until May. At the time of the call, it was the beginning of February.
Okay, well, maybe it will just go away on its own by then, I thought. Sure, and money will fall out of the sky, and we’ll all get ice cream. No matter how much doubt, though, I had to remain positive.
For the rest of the month, I remained in my head. I thought of future projects, and wondered if anything would ever be the same again. I had to come to terms over the past year, that maybe the previous manic days of creating may never come back in the same form, however, I never once feared I would lose my ability or voice. This season was so brutal, it was starting to convince me that I was.
Things always slow down for a while after I upload the Christmas Special. It’s usually a large endeavor, and a break is well earned. It just becomes difficult to stop the break and get back to it. Breaks are a great comfort, and the long dark is a bitch. Most of the time, I will do some writing, or an idea will spark, and the floodgates will open back up. As I sat in my hot tub on a random 20-degree February night, I strained and stressed. I tried with every ounce of my being, but I couldn’t come up with shit.
I looked up at the clear night sky, at least being able to appreciate how beautiful all the stars looked. A person can’t just lose it, right? I questioned myself, trying to rationalize. What if I just re-visited an old project? That could be a great stepping stone. I had an entire list of things from the previous year that I really wanted to accomplish, and sadly, had not really done anything from it yet.
Various items from the list danced around in my head. Most of them were kinda meaty. The thought of trying to tackle one, just to build momentum and check a box, seemed daunting. Maybe that wasn’t the best place to start. I continued to reflect.
How about another essay? Last time I found myself feeling a little stuck, writing helped get that momentum back. Also, it would just be nice to get some of these more recent challenge and reflections documented. Documented? Hey, wait a minute. Maybe this whole ringing thing could also become a documentary. I could interview people and show what my experiences have been. The floodgates were officially back open.
I have a pretty bad habit of getting an idea, getting hyped about it, and then shelving it for an unknown future date. By mid-April, the tinnitus documentary looked like it was becoming one of those “on the shelf” things. I had not made much movement with it. The ball had already been dropped, as I had already missed filming some good “real” moments that I had experienced along this high-pitched journey. Yet, I was still grateful. I was still riding the wave of momentum and could see the spark. If nothing was going to come from the documentary, that was fine. It was the catalyst for everything else. It was enough in that moment to make me believe again.
One of the first podcast related activities that I did was record a “state of the podcast” address. It was just some free-form audio to help get me back into the vibe, while addressing my long list of uncompleted projects from the previous year.
Before and during recording, I worried about my hearing. Would I keep hearing the phantom sound and be thrown off? Would I keep adjusting the levels unnecessarily? I pressed on and did eventually stop thinking about all that. This was starting to sound like all those what-ifs that played in my head during the process of going back to college in my 30’s. Guess what happened with that? I was sitting there recording with a degree up on my wall. The worries were just delusions of the mind. My brain was probably just trying to get my back, and while some things maybe would never be the same again, I was still the same tenacious, resilient, and creative guy from the past.
For the rest of the recording, I locked in. It wasn’t long before I had the familiar feelings again. Ah yes, my free therapy. Ramble on. Ramble even if no one cares right now. They may not care right now, but they would never if the rambling ceased. Besides, it’s not about them, remember?
From April into May, it’s not like there was some insane turnaround, though there were some things starting to brew. It seemed that instead of working against me, the universe was starting to conspire for me. Maybe not in every aspect of my life, but certainly creatively.
Late winter into spring, I stumbled upon a bit of a solid writing routine and started digging up some old work to take some more passes on things. I ended up reviving and revising an old pilot that I had originally written in 2020. Back when I first wrote it, it was exciting, and I’m sure I probably thought it was ready to shoot. Now, it was more like: “Holy shit! This thing is really ready.” I also started working on my book of essays for the first time in probably over a year.
Not only that, but my buddy surprised me with 28 days worth of shorts made from preexisting videos from my channel. I could post daily, grease the algorithm, and essentially pick up free subscribers. This would all be while learning a lot of useful information along the way. The whole thing actually ended up being a lot more work than I had initially imagined. Instead of being able to upload via just the desktop or just mobile, I had to use both options in order to fully complete my process. On desktop, you could uncheck the box that alerts your subscribers that a new video is available, but can’t make a custom thumbnail, while on mobile, it’s the opposite. Make it make sense!
I had no room to complain too much, as it was all gifted content. Work was still work, however, and it served as a reminder that most things always take longer than anticipated.
With all of this newfound momentum and the fact that another Winter had passed, I had actually felt like I was starting to adapt better to the ringing.
Sleep was the first thing that I was able to make a relatively normal return to. I still had my moments, but I also had podcasts and cricket masking noises. Other ways in which I noticed a shift happening were more subtle. Sometimes I’d just have a packed day, get to the end, and realize, “Hey, I didn’t even think about the ringing today.”
May 5th, the day of my appointment, eventually arrived. I was nervous, yet also very eager to figure out what the hell was going on. When I got into the office, the first thing I had to do was take a hearing test. I got into what looked like a recording booth, sat down, put on some headphones, and waited for the doctor to arrive on the other side of the glass across from me. The test involved mostly the repeating back of a series of words and raising my hand if I heard certain sounds. I thought I was nailing it; the chart with my results at the end said otherwise.
The hearing results on my left ear were a straight line, while my right ear’s results looked like a sledding hill. I didn’t know how to interpret the data, but I did know enough that my right ear was altered. Dare I even say, fucked.
Right after that, I was moved into another office to meet with another doctor. She looked at the results, and it was believed that I had experienced nerve damage from a virus. Excuse me, but what the serious fuck? I didn’t even know that was possible.
Just to rule anything else out, she wanted me to get an MRI. Oh, good, back to the waiting and anticipating game. Luckily, this time it was scheduled for just later that same month. I would not have to distract myself for long.
Walking away from the first appointment left me rather unfulfilled. Sure, I got answers, I got clarity. It was nice to not be in the dark anymore. What I also got, though, was basically another person saying, “You’re shit outta luck…oh, and we have to make sure there’s nothing wrong with your brain.” I get it, it’s not that simple. If this was truly a permanent thing, I wasn’t really out of luck. People had overcome far worse situations and thrived.
It would be like quitting substances or going back to college: a fucking battle. One in which you keep getting smacked, often want to just find a corner and weep, but you keep getting up and showing up. Life has begged me so many times to throw in the towel. “Come on, man, just quit. Look around you, what’s the use? I beg you, turn that foolish optimism into proper cynicism.”
Foolish optimism had won every time and was going to continue to be undefeated. Life sucks, but it’s also beautiful, and we all deserve to find out what-if? What if I could adapt, and what if my wildest dreams are still waiting behind the door? What if the ringing becomes just another part of the story? What if?
The weeks leading up to the MRI were a bit of a roller coaster. Expensive car issues hit me pretty hard, but a couple of great trips helped to soften the blow. When the day of the appointment finally arrived, I again felt a mix of many things. Mostly, I was pretty psyched to have a day off.
The scan seemed like serious business. I had to answer the same series of lengthy questions 3 different times. The scan was delayed due to an emergency. Well, what’s another hour on top of the months I already had? The waiting area had a recliner and a TV, so it wasn’t a bad wait at all.
The scan went pretty well. I never felt any moments of panic, just lots of urges to touch my face. It was a pretty lengthy experience. At times, I imagined being on an alien ship, in some sort of observation tube. I know one thing about my brain, at least; pop culture has warped it.
When it was all over, I made the walk of shame in my gown, down the long hallway, through the lobby, and back into the changing room. I was told that it’d be about 3 to 5 days before I would find out my results.
One long holiday weekend and one workday later, I got the call. Everything was fine. Well, the ringing was still very much there, but my brain was fine. No matter what, I had to be grateful for that.
So, here I am, about to cap this essay off in June. The saga isn’t over. I have a follow-up in August, consisting of another hearing test, and the possibility of a hearing aid. Life is far from normal, yet it also goes on. I sit on the table outside, on a beautiful evening, with an almost finished essay. When that’s over, I have plans for 2 books, shooting some video projects, and who knows what else.
It’s not the same, and if I’m not careful, the momentum could crash. However, the fact that there even is momentum right now either way means I never lost my voice. Most importantly, I’ll be okay.
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