Christine Robinson was looking forward to a date night with her husband, Robert. She grilled flatbread veggie pizza, opened a bottle of Cabernet and lighted some candles. 
 
 Her husband took a sip of wine, swished it around in his mouth, then bit off the triangle tip of a pizza slice with a crunch. “The mix between the crispiness of the crust, the chewiness of the toppings and the slurping of the wine is what did it,” Ms. Robinson... ||||| Illustration: Tanya Cooper/The Illustration Room 
 
 Mary McIntyre* says she was diagnosed with super-sensitive hearing when she was just three, after her tonsils and adenoids were removed. Now 50, the health researcher has to ask people to stop making noises that annoy and infuriate her, including sniffing, whispering, humming and whistling, and the sound of eating apples, carrots, nuts, celery, corn or potato chips. 
 
 At work one day, she found it difficult to concentrate when trying to check reports while gingerly waiting for each soft pop of the grapes being eaten by the person at the next desk. Matters escalated when her neighbour produced crispbreads and a jar of peanut butter. McIntyre politely, but unsuccessfully, asked her to stop. 
 
 Crunch, crunch, crunch. McIntyre was so agitated she had to go out for a walk. She says her last office was like "working with rabbits" because "the crunching was phenomenal". 
 
 She tries negotiating. One woman with whom she shared a workstation would leave her two mobile phones behind when she went out. When they rang, McIntyre's concentration would be shot. She asked her colleague if she could pay more attention to her phones. "I'm insulted and offended and I think you've got a psychiatric problem," the woman told her. But McIntyre said she just wanted a bit of consideration. 
 
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 After a particularly bad day at work last year, she typed into Google: "How do you cope with eating noises that worry you?" and was directed to a website about a condition called "misophonia", which means "hatred of sound". She found multiple support groups with thousands of people. "I nearly died!" McIntyre says. "I just thought I was an irritable person, but I realised it wasn't just me." 
 
 Krysta Callander, who is investigating the condition as part of her PhD into sound sensitivity at the Melbourne School of Psychological Sciences, calls misophonia an "internet disorder". "It's really risen through Google; I don't think it has been driven by the medical profession," she says. "It's driven by patients Googling it and finding ... a very common phenomenology." 
 
 Researchers from Amsterdam's Academic Medical Centre produced the first research into misophonia in 2013. Screening 42 patients, Arjan Schröder and Damiaan Denys found that when sufferers heard certain human sounds, they exhibited "a similar pattern of intense anger, impulsive reactions, avoidance of cue-related situations [and] worry of losing control". 
 
 Noise triggers include lip smacking, typing, nail clipping, footsteps and repetitive leg rocking. One in five undergraduates in a 2014 University of South Florida study had "clinically significant" misophonia symptoms, suggesting a widespread prevalence. 
 
 "People say they must have misophonia because they hate it when people chew," says Callander. However, she adds, such people don't want to punch the chewers in the face. "Sufferers have a real fight-or-flight activation. When they hear the sound [that triggers them], they want to get out of the room. If they can't get out of the room, they want to attack it." 
 
 In the past year, Melbourne audiologist Myriam Westcott has seen 28 patients with misophonia. She says the condition may start with an intrusive sound - say, someone's father eating noisily at the dinner table - which then activates the limbic system in the brain, generating fear, irritation or rage, and the autonomic nervous system, provoking the desire to fight or to flee. 
 
 Sufferers can become hypervigilant for the irritating sound, which perpetuates their brains' interpretation of it as threatening. This can increase the list of triggers consciously, subconsciously or both. 
 
 "People become terrified sometimes of the involuntary aspect of their rage," Westcott says. "One woman told me, 'I'm just so scared I'll jump over the fence and throttle the neighbour's dog' [for barking]." 
 
 Misophonia sufferers avoid potential triggers. Wearing noise-blocking headphones is common. Schröder says some people move multiple times to escape noisy neighbours, only to find new ones. Sydney-based clinical psychologist Anna Kittle has had patients unable to work in open-plan offices and others who keep dozens of sets of earplugs handy - just in case. 
 
 The effect on relationships can be devastating; sufferers are often triggered by someone they're close to. Ashley Boyd, from Nelson Bay, NSW, and her mum had "hellfights" when the 22-year-old was younger. Boyd would scream, shout, throw things. She even kicked and punched holes in the wall, triggered by her mum saying words beginning with certain letters - "Sally or snake or tree" - or by the sight of her eating. 
 
 "Mum thought I was crazy," Boyd says. A year ago she saw a Dr Phil episode about a woman with misophonia who couldn't stand the sound of her husband eating. Suddenly her condition had a name. Boyd texted her mum: she wasn't crazy; others had it, too. The reply came back: it all makes sense. 
 
 "My head fills up with rage ... and the noise just replays itself over and over again," Boyd says, likening misophonia to being trapped in a room with no doors, no windows and your worst enemy. "You want to punch someone but you want to run away and cry at the same time." 
 
 Boyd's sense of humour helps her cope. She shows me posts from an online support group where sufferers poke jokes at each other. One is a picture of a tube of glue. "That's to keep your mouth shut," she says, giggling. Boyd estimates she has 40 triggers, including her dog and cat grooming themselves. Her boyfriend, who sniffs a lot, triggers her. She even triggers herself with certain words. 
 
 The cause of misophonia is unknown. Schröder has published research suggesting there might be a "basic impairment in auditory processing", and he's investigating whether there's a genetic component. Callander says sufferers "go round the loop" of the medical system. "It's often a really negative experience," she says. "They're told to get over it, to stop being silly." She's trying to identify the underlying mechanisms so treatment can be better directed. 
 
 Westcott says some people with misophonia don't want to change - they think their reaction is reasonable. For the rest, there are a number of treatments. One is based around cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), which involves identifying and changing unhelpful or unhealthy thoughts and behaviours. 
 
 Schröder and his team are about to publish a treatment using CBT and psychomotor therapy techniques. Mary McIntyre says she has had misophonia so long it's part of her. "I'd probably think I was going deaf if I didn't have it," she says. She faced more tense moments when she returned to university. "I'm anticipating the crinkling of the wrappers and the clicking of the pens. That drives me nuts." 
 
 * Not her real name.
– Does a loud chewer drive you crazy—to the point that you'd rather leave the room than endure the chomping? It turns out you might be the one with the problem. Researchers say people with an extreme aversion to certain sounds—like chewing, foot-tapping, or sniffing—may suffer from a condition known as misophonia, meaning "hatred of sound," per the Sydney Morning Herald. Experts say up to 20% of people may suffer from it, and Christine Robinson is one of those people. She's so bothered by the sound of her husband chewing popcorn that she sometimes wears headphones when they watch TV. Why do such sounds annoy her more than others? Experts aren't sure—misophonia only recently became more well-known as people starting Googling their symptoms—but it may be caused by "enhanced neural connections in the brain between the auditory, limbic, and autonomic systems," per the Wall Street Journal. A 2014 study found sufferers also tend to show symptoms of anxiety, OCD, or depression; there's still debate over whether misophonia is a psychiatric disorder. Robinson guesses she's missed hundreds of family meals over the years because of her sensitivity. She even banned cereal from her house, but arguments still spring up when a family member starts crunching or slurping in her vicinity. "I suspect it's like living with anyone who has a disability," says her husband. "I have to respect that if I want to spend quality time with my family." Experts say those with the condition should learn to cope, rather than try to change the habits of those around them. But for those who have trouble—one woman equates the condition to being trapped in a room with your worst enemy—a form of cognitive behavioral therapy in which misophonia sufferers are slowly introduced to sounds has been shown to work. (Speaking of sounds, we now know what noise a giraffe makes.)