In the aftermath of Danail Genov’s suicide, Hyperacusis Central has learned he wrote a farewell letter and sent it to many in hopes of raising awareness about the cruel reality he had faced. Below is the letter. It was translated to English from Bulgarian.

But before you read it, we want to preface it with some important statements. From time to time we get questions or even pushback regarding our decision to publish the suicides that happen. There are important reasons for making these tragic stories known, although we do understand that some people don’t like to see the suicide-related content. That’s fine, of course, but running Hyperacusis Central requires a delicate balancing act that often entails some heartbreaking truths. We have to tell these truths with the outside world of non-hyperacusis people at the front of our minds. They don’t know what to make of hyperacusis and it’s our job to tell them, while also maintaining order for the sufferers, ensuring these conditions don’t seem absolutely hopeless. Keep in mind that Hyperacusis Central exists for the outside world just as much as it does the inside one–us, the sufferers.

For the sufferers it’s important to note that many people who get loudness hyperacusis, pain hyperacusis, and vestibular hyperacusis, including their comorbid conditions, do improve with time (not heal, per se, but make some good improvements, some tremendously; it’s like the conditions go into remission but they’re still there, and can be reawakened with ease if they abuse their ears again). That isn’t a secret, but often people don’t improve, or worsen despite their best efforts to cap the fallout. That also isn’t a secret, although some people seem to want it to be because they think that talking about it will provoke unrest and panic among others who suffer. In other words, they’d prefer it go unsaid or unwritten, including the suicides, because the prospects are too alarming to accept. Still, it’s important to remember that severe people also note improvements, although it’s harder, of course. There’s always hope and no one has to die. PEOPLE DO IMPROVE, remember that, and if they don’t they still don’t have to die, but sometimes it becomes beyond excruciating. When the torture reaches a certain point it makes it near impossible to sustain for some individuals . . . where with every sound their symptoms only hit the red; permanently, too, tinnitus screaming at well above one hundred twenty decibels and noxacusis stabbing pain with whisper-level sounds; where bathing and brushing their teeth become impossible feats–even that! Yes, they’re rotting, more or less, and for some it just becomes a path they can’t endure. They shouldn’t be judged but pitied–it’s extremely unfair. And totally understandable why some succumb. If people can’t fathom why, they’re missing that fundamental knowledge and common sense that make it clear why these conditions are so wretched. Life is sound, essentially, every little task, and being allergic to sound, in effect, is being allergic to life itself; they’re inseparable in almost every way.

Bottom line, we’re in the business of telling the truth. Hyperacusis and its different versions embody hope as well as horrifying darkness. We offer both, the fact it’s often a random spin for which way it will fall. Stories like Danail’s are NOT omens, not by any means. Don’t read his story with yourself in mind. Don’t compare. We know it’s hard not to, but don’t, because these conditions can improve. Darkness isn’t guaranteed.

But it’s our responsibility to show the world that change is needed for us, and omitting the darkest aspects of our ordeals isn’t helping the cause–it’s hurting it.

The truth is, is that these disorders are sometimes so egregious that some people don’t want to read or hear about them. They’re subjects so dark that some want to leave them in the dark and not shine any light on them.

Some people want to deny the hyperacusis trio and their comorbid conditions their undiluted truths. Usually it’s the people on the outside–the non-hyperacusis world–who adhere to such perspectives, but sometimes it’s even the people inside, as described above. Yet those who died deserve to have their voices heard so their deaths were not in vain. People like Danail lost their lives because of medical malpractice, basically, and a world that denies them belief and support, acceptable funding and treatments, even disability benefits, oftentimes, etc., etc., etc., as they battle ear conditions at levels akin to major torture. It’s injustice. These people’s voices need their microphones. To take their mics away is oppression. This world tells us to stand up for what is right when oppressed. That shouldn’t be any different for hyperacusis-types of people, no matter how bad and ugly their situations are. To the critics who oppose our approach I would say to stop trying to silence the victims who’ve lost it all. We know it’s not intentional (they’re not literally trying to silence them, but that’s what ends up happening). And it’s the most extreme sufferers they’re hurting. It’s their voice, really, not Hyperacusis Central’s. They’re not opposing us, but rather the community. And again, it’s an indirect result of the fear or dislike that comes with approaching this subject, not intentional.

You have to think about the broader picture in relation to the way diseases and illnesses work in this world. How they’re viewed and treated by outsiders. Trigeminal neuralgia, for example, got respect and increased attention and funding because it was rightly labeled “the suicide disease.” Had people watered it down, where would its progress be in the medical field? You see? Truth has helped its cause. Because it’s so awful, people realized something had to be done about it.

You have to tell the truth, and doing so is never evil. Painful? Yes. But evil? No. Never. Truth is truth.

–Jerad J. D. Rider, President of Hyperacusis Central

Here’s Danail’s letter . . .

Hello!

The time has come for me to say goodbye to all of you. After four excruciatingly long years of raw agony, the moment for a few final words from me has finally arrived.

Briefly, for those of you who haven’t been aware of my health condition since 2021 — thanks to Dr. —— —– and his assistant from “——- ——” in —– (these names were omitted for legal reasons), I lost the life I once knew. A normal, good, colorful life. Due to an improperly-conducted vestibular test, they managed to damage my hearing and caused me something so rare and unknown to medicine that there was simply no chance of recovery. There was nothing to be done. There was no treatment then, there isn’t now, and none is on the horizon.

I went to them with complaints of vertigo. I returned with some of the most merciless and under-researched illnesses known to man — loudness hyperacusis, noxacusis, and tinnitus. And not in mild forms, but in one of the most severe degrees — the kind that not only robs you of your quality of life but erases it entirely. Down to zero. Or even below that. Just to put things into perspective: the odds of being struck by lightning are one in 15,000, while the chance of having any form of hyperacusis, even the mildest, is one in 50,000 (this statistic is theory and not proven). And noxacusis — the painful version — is even rarer. You can do the math yourself.

Everything collapsed in a single minute — the duration of the caloric test. Everything you’ve worked for your whole life gets taken away in the cruelest possible way. You start to realize how insignificant all the things you’ve ever worried about truly were. It sounds like a horror movie, doesn’t it? Too unreal to be true? It sounded that way to me, too — even though I was the one living it, watching from the front row as my life slipped through my fingers. All because of a doctor’s negligence that went completely unpunished.

I’ve shared the entire journey I had to endure in detail on the official page of Hyperacusis Central. If anyone is interested, you can read it. It will give you a much clearer idea of the hopeless nightmares these conditions truly are, and what I went through, and the kind of life I was forced to live:
👉 Click HERE to read it.

But the agony didn’t end there. The other damages caused by medical negligence also left me with one foot in the grave. My eyes were damaged to the point where I couldn’t tolerate any light (photophobia) and could barely move from one room to another, relying on category 4 sunglasses. Additionally, due to an improper blood drawing (which was part of the process to try to help my vision), I developed a blockage and a thrombus that hasn’t resolved for four months now, leaving my arm nearly unusable.

Other conditions I faced included a serious disc herniation, a severe case of IBS, and several other diagnoses that are also serious, but I prefer to keep those to myself.

I tried to treat each of my illnesses in every possible way — sadly, in most cases, I either made things worse or saw no progress at all. I was forced to rely again on the very system and the very people who took my life while I was still “alive,” and the result was predictable. The incompetence, arrogance, and indifference that reign in much of our healthcare system are truly horrifying. Only someone who hasn’t lived through such a nightmare personally — or through a loved one — would doubt my words. Unfortunately, I am just one of the many “results of Bulgarian healthcare.” Of course, there are good and conscientious doctors who are true professionals and humans above all, but they are a drop in the ocean compared to the rest. Still, they deserve respect, and we must value them because they are truly rare.

I can’t find the right words to describe what it’s like to lose your autonomy at such a young age. But believe me, I went beyond my limits to endure all of this, to survive, and to try every possible way to help myself. I tried everything, but everything ended in failure. Sadly, not every problem has a solution. I never fully came to terms with what happened, but after dozens of failed attempts to fix my problems, I accepted my fate. I swallowed the bitter pill of truth and injustice and lived with it for so many years. It was painfully hard to let go of the life I once loved, especially when it wasn’t my fault. Because I believe I did what any of you would’ve done — when you have a health problem, you seek help from a specialist. In my case, I paid the ultimate price.

Despite everything, I tried to preserve the good in me until the very end. For a long time, I’ve been thinking about it and finally made the decision to become a heart donor after my death — to help someone who truly needs it. So that at least one human life could continue because of me. So that a piece of me could live on in this world for a while. So that I wouldn’t feel like everything I went through was in vain.

Health is gold. Cherish it and never take it for granted. Value loyalty and genuine people when you find them, and never let them go, because morality, honor, and values are disappearing in our time — and sadly, they’ve become a rarity rather than a norm. Love one another and be kinder and more compassionate to each other. Love the animals and take care of them.

And last but not least, I want to thank my eternal love, Levski Sofia. I am proud to have been a Levski supporter! I’ll remain a Levski fan forever, even after my death.

–Danail Genov

DISCLAIMER

*While Hyperacusis Central does NOT condone suicide, we’re presenting the fact that many with this condition feel pushed to end their lives. It is the nature of the beast, and for educational purposes it is very necessary to communicate the devastating fallout that it does have for some. If you or anyone you know is in need of assistance due to suicidal thoughts, call or text 988 for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also chat with 988lifeline.org. Or text MHA to 741741 for the Crisis Text Line. Or, for a comprehensive list pertaining to different countries, visit the following link: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines. It is important to remember that you’re not alone in this, and help, if sought upon, is there for your consolement.