If, in a wild fantasy, my misophonia was cured and my PTSD ceased to be, I'd love to take a shot at life. I had plans. I wanted a future, instead I got severe chronic misophonia. I have a family I love. Today is my last Christmas with them and I'm bedridden with period cramps. My brother just brought in a new bottle of wine for me to try. How am I supposed to accept that this our last drink together. Ofcourse I'd like to be able to see them all together again and not worry that this is the last time. I want to have a life, get married, have more laughs with friends, have more crying, make more special moments, and do more things, but I know I can't live with such a plague. If it were possible for a surgery to fix my processing or a pill to numb just this kind of pain, I wouldn't need to ctb. However, there isn't. I can only catch the bus to end the pain. My ticket is my only cure.