A while back, I wrote a column about bad manners. I told you how I can’t stand poor table manners — especially people who talk with their mouth full or “smack” their food.

Boy did I get a lot of comedians coming out of the woodwork after that column. Seems people were beating down my door to see if they could irritate me. One person called me on the phone sounding like they were a cow chewing one’s cud.  I had the decency not to hang up.

Since that column, I found out what I experience with “mouth noises” is actually a disease, believe it or not. Many people suffer from a disorder called misophonia. I read about it, examined personal testimony and familiarized myself with the disease. Yep, that’s me.

Michelle told me about it after watching a talk show one day. She told me some actress on the talk show spoke of the disorder and went on and on about her struggle with it. The more she talked, the more Michelle realized her crazy husband fit that description as well.

Now, I’m a person who says the word “tough” a lot. I try not to complain, but it’s often in vain.

However, most of the time I try to put on my big boy pants and just put up with something or get the job done. There have been plenty of times I’ve been in a situation where I just dealt with it.

After all, as my grandmother used to say, “When in Rome…”

I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve been eating near someone and he or she carried on a full conversation while eating; food dribbling out of their mouth or on full display as they conversed and masticated at the same time. Finger-licking while others are eating grosses me out. People call me on the phone at home or at work and are eating or chewing; it makes me want to hang up, really.

The lady on the TV spoke of being “enraged” when people made noises with their mouth, especially while eating. I hate to admit it and be so dramatic, but that’s how it feels. More than once, I’ve told people I can talk to them when they’ve finished eating.

Having experienced these feelings since I was a kid, I just assumed it was because of my upbringing. I may have come from some good, hard working farm folks, but those folks had as much class, maybe more than the more citified folks I’ve run into. All of us in those families were raised with good manners. Take your hat off in a building, speak to people and make eye contact, elbows off the table, don’t make noise when you eat or drink. It was just a way of life and all of us in my family probably appeared to be a bit snobbish when it came to table noises. We all had a particular disdain for ill-mannered folks.

Now, I don’t fancy myself any better than others, so I guess there was a little bit of shame in me when I turned my nose up at those who didn’t have a knowledge of proper etiquette. So, I’d just ignore it and power through, in most cases.

There’s also a part of me who detests the use of labels.  As I’ve said before, I can’t stand it when people self-diagnose and label themselves to make excuses for behavior.

“I’m so unorganized because I have ADD. I can’t get anything done.”

“My OCD makes me want everything perfect so I always need to be the boss.”

Whether or not people actually have these disorders is sometimes debatable and it makes it bad for the ones who really do suffer. I just think labels are overused and just another crutch for many of us.

I’ll let you know how all this goes. Will people have pity on me, or will the evil and dark hearted people who I come in contact with each day try their best to irritate me after they read this? I hope not.

So, there you have it; yet another issue I have in life.  This time, it actually has a name, and there are plenty of people who’ll back me up.

“I’m sorry, I just vomited when you ate an entire Big Mac while reciting the Gettysburg Address.”

“You’ll have to excuse me: I have misophonia.”