Regarding Yelling

I’ve become very spoiled lately, living alone and leading such a quiet life, despite having a very vocal kitteh. The more time passes, the more I find I can’t tolerate any loudness. Perhaps it has something to do with the tinnitus (as discussed); or perhaps it’s just that I’m in the habit of indulging my own preferences only… and they run to the white noise varieties. During my childhood, my parents argued frequently and were in the habit of yelling at each other to the point where it seemed that violence was imminent (though it rarely ever came to that), and this was often scary for a little kid, though one does get used to things. However, one also gets used to the absence of such.

Nothing gets me in a bad mood faster than sustained bursts of noise. I find I’m unable to focus on anything else. Raised, angry voices literally make me cringe in fear, even if they have nothing to do with me. Saturday afternoon a group of young men appeared to be having an argument in the parking lot of my apartment complex, and I was scared to go out to my car. It was silly, but I began to worry they’d start physically fighting, even though there was no sign of this. I thought it could happen. They were nowhere near my car, but even so, I stayed inside for a while until they quieted down, and I was slightly late for my meeting ~ because I was afraid of nothing really.

Ironically, my meeting was in a public place, and it was loud there too, which eventually put me in a grumpy mood for a while until the crowd thinned out and the noise volume lowered. Geez, I’m such a crabby old lady now. Guess what? IDGAF about that. I like what I like… and more importantly, I dislike what I dislike.

Crabby-Single-Female

~*~

The Daily Prompt:Β Cringe

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8 responses to “Regarding Yelling

  1. “Get off my lawn!”

    Same childhood, same apprehensions.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I like noise at concerts only!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Step father and mom would binge on gallons of cheap white wine and step dad would verbally abuse mom, getting her screeching in her own defense. I developed an intense hatred of him. I wasn’t a little kid though. Started when I was about 11 and while I cried at first, alone in my bedroom, I started getting mad instead in short order. A lot of my virulent responses on Usenet stem from that time.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. My parents fought with my dad yelling and my mom giving everyone the silent treatment. I was more afraid of my mother’s mood than my father’s. She would make me cringe. At least with Dad, you knew how HE felt. I still prefer yellers for that reason.

    But what I really came here to say is “Thank you”, Paule. I have borrowed your inspiration to do some blogging of my own with the Daily Prompt.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. *Paula
    I have no idea where that e came from.

    Like

  6. πŸ’•πŸ’•πŸ’•πŸ’•

    Liked by 1 person

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