Tinnitus can emerge after trauma, stress, or hearing loss. It’s also common among people who work in the building trade, with pneumatic drills – or anyone who spends years surrounded by loud sound.
It's a constant sound that never fully fades. Living with tinnitus means having to learn new ways to calm the nervous system and to reconnect with yourself. It can also change how you move through the world. I'm talking about it because it's important, not just for me – and because I'm trying to find ways to be more at peace with it.
With tinnitus, you start to notice sound differently – not just the sounds that are loud, but the sounds that are constant. Where you once had quiet, you now have noise. Over time, you learn which environments soothe and which ones drain. White noise may sometimes help take the edge off. Rest and hydration help too, because tiredness and stress can make tinnitus louder. Light can also exacerbate it.
Food and lifestyle can make a difference, but it's difficult to know for sure which foods trigger the condition, because stress is always the underlying factor for tinnitus. Listening to podcasts, it's clear caffeine, sugar, and processed foods can heighten it – while magnesium-rich foods, leafy greens, and staying well-hydrated can help the nervous system. Keeping a journal of what you eat, what you feel, and when your tinnitus gets worse can reveal your triggers. Sticking with any of it isn't easy.
It’s also about your emotional landscape. Tinnitus frequently arises after trauma, as the overwhelmed nervous system struggles to restore balance. Calming the nervous system, through gentle breathing, mindfulness, therapy, or quiet walks, can sometimes make the sound less intrusive.
From what is known of tinnitus, once you have it, healing isn’t a given, but there are ways to possibly live more peacefully with it.
There are days where I continue to struggle. Tinnitus doesn't have to define – but it does shape how you move through the day, how you're able to plan, rest, and connect. Over time, you learn of ways to lessen its hold. You may find small comforts, moments of relief, and ways to soften its edges. It may then become a part of you that you manage, rather than something that manages you.
And yet I remind myself – this isn't mine to carry.
My tinnitus is a reminder: not only of what my body has had to endure, but of what should never have been mine to endure. Relationships don’t always unfold the way we hope. Some have ended in ways I could never have been prepared for.
The trauma of my twin’s death, and the pain that followed, have left echoes – a noise I now live with. The tinnitus noise carries the story of what was beyond my choosing.
Healing isn’t about silence or resolution; it’s about learning to talk, to carry the sound, and the past, a little more gently each day.
And that is what I try to do. Not happy, but here. I'm still finding my way through the noise.
