Latest news with #tics
Medical News Today
07-07-2025
- Health
- Medical News Today
What to know about anxiety tics
Anxiety tics are a type of involuntary, repetitive body movement or sound that may occur when a person feels anxiety or stress. They are a physical response to anxiety where the body aims to release tension through these are rapid, repeated movements that lead to jolts or sounds that can be challenging to stop or control. Vocal or phonic tics involve a sound, including grunts, coughs, words, and phrases. Motor tics involve involuntary movements, such as head jerks, finger clicks, blinks, or touching may occur in response to a range of triggers or no trigger at all. One of these potential triggers is anxiety. However, 'anxiety tics' are not part of an official diagnosis or list of anxiety symptoms. What are anxiety tics?Tics are rapid, repetitive movements that develop suddenly and can be difficult to control. They may take the form of sounds (such as a grunt, cough, sniff, word, or phrase) or movement (including blinking, jerking or banging the head, clicking fingers, or touching people and objects).Uncomfortable sensations called premonitory urges build up to a tic, and only the tic relieves them. This may feel like burning, itching, and tension at a particular point in the body. Tics are most common in the eyes, head, and shoulders but can involve the mouth, hands, and people have tics due to a tic disorder, such as Tourette syndrome. However, tics do not always point to a tic disorder and can have links to emotional states such as anxiety or stress. These would be known as anxiety tics. Are tics always a symptom of anxiety?Not everyone with anxiety will experiences tic. Currently, tics do are not part of the formal criteria a mental health professional uses to diagnose anxiety. An anxiety disorder usually involves uncontrollable, distressing worry that a person cannot let go. It can often cause symptoms such as restlessness, irritability, sleep issues, and muscle tics are not a common symptom of anxiety, some evidence suggests that up to half of youths living with a chronic tic disorder also have at least one co-occurring anxiety tics may occur for no reason, they can occur in response to emotions, such as stress and anxiety. For example, a 2022 review found that anxiety may make tics more intense and might mean they occur more often in people who are already prone to can trigger anxiety tics?Feeling anxious is the main trigger for anxiety tics. The cause of anxiety may vary from person to person. Anxiety is a natural response to challenges and pressure. Some people may experience anxiety during significant life changes, periods of grief, bullying, or chronic health people experience extreme anxiety that is out of proportion to the trigger. These are known as anxiety disorders. They may include:separation anxietypanic disorderspecific phobiassocial anxiety disorderselective mutism agoraphobiageneralized anxiety disordersubstance/medication-induced anxiety disorderEvidence notes that tics tend to increase during periods of strong feelings. These can include stress, nervousness, excitement, or tiredness. They are also suggestible, which means that discussing tics and drawing attention to them can increase their tics durationIf anxiety triggers a tic attack, it will likely last a few seconds or several may form part of a person's lifelong response to stressful or anxiety-inducing triggers, especially if they also live with a tic disorder. However, learning to manage anxiety can help people reduce their mental and physical responses to challenging scenarios, which might include tics vs. tic disordersAnxiety tics and tic disorders are different. A doctor would not diagnose 'anxiety tics' as a formal condition. Instead, tics may be a feature of high anxiety that some people share. A person with a tic disorder does not need to feel anxiety to experience a tic attack, and a person with anxiety tics may not have an underlying tic disorder. However, tics may intensify during anxious periods for some people with tic a person stop anxiety tics?People who experience tics may develop premonitory urges that they cannot voluntarily stop for long. However, as anxiety and stress can increase the intensity of tics and how often attacks happen, anxiety management may help a person to reduce their mind and body's response to anxious might include:finding a relaxing or enjoyable hobby that can help reduce stressprioritizing sleep hygiene and getting a full night's sleep distraction techniquesbreathing exercises, such as tactical breathing or box breathingmovement, such as walking or other forms of physical activityMedical treatment for tics is only usually necessary if tics cause the following:disruption to daily lifeinterference with social interactionssignificant pain relating to the ticThese may include behavior therapy or medications. Psychotherapy methods such as habit reversal training may help people identify and respond to premonitory urges in a way that does not involve their usual tic. Certain medications, such as antipsychotic medications and alpha-2-adrenergic agonists, may help to reduce the frequency of tics describe involuntary and repetitive body movements or sounds that a person may experience when feeling anxious. However, anxiety tics are neither an official symptom of anxiety nor a diagnosis on their research suggests that anxiety is common in those living with a chronic tic disorder and periods of anxiety may increase the frequency of tics in a person with a tic disorder. To help reduce anxiety tics, a person can try and lessen their their response to stress through different techniques, such as mindfulness and tactical breathing. If a person's anxiety or tics are affecting their life, it is advisable to consult a physician.
Yahoo
29-06-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
I Always Knew I Was Different. Still, I Was Shocked To Hear My Doctor Say These 4 Words To Me.
One particularly stressful day a few years ago, while driving to an important work event, I was seized with a severe bout of tics. This was not unusual for me. I'd been ticcing nearly all my life, and stress always exacerbated my tics. On this day, my snorts and jerks were so out of control that I rear-ended a car. That's when I finally visited a neurologist. I needed to know, literally, what made me tic. What he told me — 'You have Tourette syndrome' — came as a shock. It was also a relief. For as long as I can remember, I've had the characteristic vocal and motor tics associated with the condition. Secreting them away in my mental lockbox, burying them well out of sight of others, was how I dealt with them. A diagnosis brought clarity, and it meant that I could deal with my tics in a healthier way — or so I thought. I grew up in a small western New York town in the 1980s, those heady days of ozone-depleting hairspray, goofy mullets, and syrupy synth pop. In my rural community, very few people knew what Tourette was. I certainly didn't. When I was a teenager, a television program, possibly 60 Minutes, aired an episode on the subject that I watched with my mom. It featured a young man who shouted obscenities in some large American city. By that time I'd been ticcing for years — in fact, I'd already been hiding my tics for years. But I didn't recognize myself in this program, because never, not once, did I swear or shout in public. When I was in elementary school, a teacher once stopped class to tell me to quit making noises and 'doing that thing you're doing with your head.' She actually demonstrated 'that thing' in front of my classmates because I was apparently annoying her and disrupting her lesson. Every head turned my way, and I put mine down, humiliated. I could not tell her that I couldn't help myself. Related: If You Don't Pass This Extremely Easy Hygiene Test, You're Officially Stinkier Than The Average Human In birding, there's something called a 'spark bird' — the bird that, when you first see it in the wild, truly gets you hooked on birding. But this was my spark moment, when I realized my tics were not 'normal' and that I needed to hide them if I wanted to be normal. If my mom made any connection between that kid we saw on TV and me, she didn't mention it, and my parents didn't take me to a neurologist to have me checked out. Because of that TV program, I assumed, wrongly, that having Tourette meant shouting obscenities in public. I learned that this version of Tourette is called coprolalia and, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, it 'only affects about 1 in 10 people with Tourette.' It is not as common as popular media likes to portray it. For me, ticcing has always meant a near-constant urge to do things with my body. 'Urge' may not be the right word for these head jerks, blinks, snorts, grunts, throat clearings, tongue clicks, etc., but it's the best I've got. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep, my body seems to have a will of its own. In any given hour, I probably tic at least 100 times. During periods of great stress, like when I rear-ended that car, my tics are like a parasitic fungus that assumes total control over my body. Nobody wants to twitch or make weird noises in public — to be the person people crane their necks to see. What's wrong with this guy? you imagine them thinking. After getting called out by my teacher, I only wanted to blend in — to become invisible — because when you're in elementary school, you don't want to be seen as a freak. You want to be like everyone else. I couldn't stop ticcing, but I discovered that I could make it less obvious. To shield myself from shame and embarrassment, I developed an arsenal of tic-hiding strategies. Instead of jerking my head, I would put my hand underneath the table and waggle my fingers or ball my fists repeatedly. Instead of snorting or chuffing — obvious and strange sounds — I'd click my tongue softly, like an irregular metronome. These tricks satisfied my near-constant urge to tic and kept me mostly hidden from view. I wasn't bullied or teased in school, as kids and adults with tics often are, but I probably would have been if I hadn't learned how to control my tics. I've been using these tricks ever since. When I'm out in public today, I'm keenly aware of my internal pressure to tic, but I've become adept at suppressing it, bottling it up and capping it tight. At home, where I'm free to be myself, it's a very different story. My tics come and go. Six months ago, I began squirting air from my mouth the way someone might blow hair off their face; a few weeks later, I started hocking as though to spit a loogie. Like uninvited guests overstaying their welcome, both tics remain with me as I write these words. Sometimes a particular tic will go away only to return a year later, like an exasperating big brother who'd gone off to college and come home with a sly grin and a shaggy beard. Related: It Turns Out That Most People Wipe Their Butts Completely Wrong, But This Doctor Is Here To Teach Us The Right Way There is no cure for Tourette — all you can do is try to manage your tics. There are treatments available, ranging from antihypertensives like guanfacine and clonidine to alternative options like the antipsychotic drugs risperidone and Abilify. But I'd honestly rather have tics than the potential side effects these drugs can cause. When I was first diagnosed, I tried guanfacine and I'd wake up in the middle of the night so parched that it was like I'd swallowed sand; my sleeplessness felt more like a punishment, especially since the drug didn't even control my tics, so I quit taking the pill. Since then, I've chosen no other treatments, though I recently learned of a promising option I will try called 'comprehensive behavioral intervention for tics,' or CBIT. This doesn't involve any drugs. Instead, it trains you to change your behaviors and tic less. Researchers estimate that between 350,000 and 450,000 Americans have Tourette syndrome, while roughly 1 million have other persistent tic disorders. There's said to be insufficient evidence to determine the number of adults with Tourette because many people simply outgrow their tics by late adolescence. According to the Tourette Association of America, the condition 'occurs in 1 in 160 (0.6%) school-aged children, although it is estimated that 50% are going undiagnosed' (italics mine). A 2022 survey by the group suggested that 1 in 10 children with a tic disorder 'attempted suicide at least once during the past 12 months.' That's a scary number, and it speaks to how difficult it is for many people with tics to feel comfortable in their own bodies. I'm glad that kids (and their parents) who are diagnosed with Tourette today now have resources available to them — including a supportive community — to feel less stigmatized or ostracized by this awkward thing in their lives. I did not outgrow my tics. Because it's hard to admit publicly something I've always internalized and associated with shame, few people know this part of me. Even if you're not bullied or harassed, hurt and humiliation run deep; they form scars that are easily scraped off. How many other adults fly under the radar, as I do? Who, like me, never outgrew their tics but developed strategies for concealing them? Who didn't benefit from services that the Tourette Association of America offers, or the wealth of research being done today? Who struggled to form truly lasting friendships for fear of being exposed as someone with tics? Apart from the nuisance of having tics, I live what society would likely deem a 'good' and 'regular' life. I have a wife, a child, a great job, a house, and a creative life as a writer and translator. I have Tourette, but Tourette doesn't have me — though my wife would certainly disagree with this. When we got together 25 years ago, I suppressed my tics in front of her, but you can't hide something like this from someone you live with. I no longer try. Even on those nights when my ticcing body keeps her up, she's supportive. Since I've spent a lifetime hiding my tics, I've become successful at blending in, even when I'm meeting people for work or on stage in front of an audience, giving a reading or interviewing authors. But I've also experienced moments of deep loneliness. Retreating into yourself is a good way to not be publicly embarrassed, but you pay a price. Eventually, you end up feeling like a ghost in your own life — known to no one but yourself and a few carefully curated individuals whom you trust. I don't make friends easily. Later this year, I will publish my debut novel, The Book of Losman, after translating more than a dozen novels from Danish and writing countless unsold manuscripts over the past 30 years. It's about a literary translator, like me, with Tourette, but that's where the similarities end. It's a speculative fiction about a man named Losman who lives in Copenhagen, Denmark, and gets involved in an experimental drug study to relive childhood memories in the hope of finding a cure for his Tourette. Why not? The beauty of fiction is that you can imagine anything you want, provided the world you create is believable. In real life, I can't go back in time to reassure the little kid who got called out in elementary school, but I'm old enough to understand something he couldn't: 'Normal' is a highly subjective word, one laced with many assumptions. At nearly 50 years old, my tics (and the need to control them) are ingrained in the very fabric of my being. Even after publishing this essay, I will continue to hide my tics in public. Why? The stigma is a great burden. The line between dignity and humiliation is, in the end, a thin one — at least for me. I truly admire those in the younger generation, who can go on TikTok or YouTube and put themselves out there for the world to see. That's not for me. But by sharing my story here, what I can do is help normalize Tourette and other tic disorders. People like me, we're all around you. All that we ask for is what every human being deserves: to live a judgment-free life. K.E. Semmel is a writer and translator of more than a dozen novels from Danish and Norwegian. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Ontario Review, Literary Hub, The Writer's Chronicle, The Southern Review, The Washington Post and elsewhere. 'The World and Varvara' by Simon Fruelund is his most recent translation. His debut novel, 'The Book of Losman,' was published in October 2024 (Santa Fe Writers Project). Find him online at and on his Twitter/X page, @KESemmel. This article originally appeared on HuffPost in June 2024. Also in Goodful: This Woman Is Going Viral For Begging Women Not To Get Married Right Now, And Personally, I Couldn't Agree More Also in Goodful: People Are Sharing Their Biggest "How Doesn't Everyone Know This?" Facts, And I'm Honestly Embarrassed I Never Realized Some Of These Also in Goodful: "I Thought This Was Normal": People Are Sharing Diagnoses They Received After Someone Else Pointed Out Their Symptoms
Yahoo
28-06-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
I Always Knew I Was Different. Still, I Was Shocked To Hear My Doctor Say These 4 Words To Me.
One particularly stressful day a few years ago, while driving to an important work event, I was seized with a severe bout of tics. This was not unusual for me. I'd been ticcing nearly all my life, and stress always exacerbated my tics. On this day, my snorts and jerks were so out of control that I rear-ended a car. That's when I finally visited a neurologist. I needed to know, literally, what made me tic. What he told me — 'You have Tourette syndrome' — came as a shock. It was also a relief. For as long as I can remember, I've had the characteristic vocal and motor tics associated with the condition. Secreting them away in my mental lockbox, burying them well out of sight of others, was how I dealt with them. A diagnosis brought clarity, and it meant that I could deal with my tics in a healthier way — or so I thought. I grew up in a small western New York town in the 1980s, those heady days of ozone-depleting hairspray, goofy mullets, and syrupy synth pop. In my rural community, very few people knew what Tourette was. I certainly didn't. When I was a teenager, a television program, possibly 60 Minutes, aired an episode on the subject that I watched with my mom. It featured a young man who shouted obscenities in some large American city. By that time I'd been ticcing for years — in fact, I'd already been hiding my tics for years. But I didn't recognize myself in this program, because never, not once, did I swear or shout in public. When I was in elementary school, a teacher once stopped class to tell me to quit making noises and 'doing that thing you're doing with your head.' She actually demonstrated 'that thing' in front of my classmates because I was apparently annoying her and disrupting her lesson. Every head turned my way, and I put mine down, humiliated. I could not tell her that I couldn't help myself. Related: Older Women Are Revealing Their Biggest "Life Regrets," And Every Young Person Needs To Hear This In birding, there's something called a 'spark bird' — the bird that, when you first see it in the wild, truly gets you hooked on birding. But this was my spark moment, when I realized my tics were not 'normal' and that I needed to hide them if I wanted to be normal. If my mom made any connection between that kid we saw on TV and me, she didn't mention it, and my parents didn't take me to a neurologist to have me checked out. Because of that TV program, I assumed, wrongly, that having Tourette meant shouting obscenities in public. I learned that this version of Tourette is called coprolalia and, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, it 'only affects about 1 in 10 people with Tourette.' It is not as common as popular media likes to portray it. For me, ticcing has always meant a near-constant urge to do things with my body. 'Urge' may not be the right word for these head jerks, blinks, snorts, grunts, throat clearings, tongue clicks, etc., but it's the best I've got. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep, my body seems to have a will of its own. In any given hour, I probably tic at least 100 times. During periods of great stress, like when I rear-ended that car, my tics are like a parasitic fungus that assumes total control over my body. Nobody wants to twitch or make weird noises in public — to be the person people crane their necks to see. What's wrong with this guy? you imagine them thinking. After getting called out by my teacher, I only wanted to blend in — to become invisible — because when you're in elementary school, you don't want to be seen as a freak. You want to be like everyone else. I couldn't stop ticcing, but I discovered that I could make it less obvious. To shield myself from shame and embarrassment, I developed an arsenal of tic-hiding strategies. Instead of jerking my head, I would put my hand underneath the table and waggle my fingers or ball my fists repeatedly. Instead of snorting or chuffing — obvious and strange sounds — I'd click my tongue softly, like an irregular metronome. These tricks satisfied my near-constant urge to tic and kept me mostly hidden from view. I wasn't bullied or teased in school, as kids and adults with tics often are, but I probably would have been if I hadn't learned how to control my tics. I've been using these tricks ever since. When I'm out in public today, I'm keenly aware of my internal pressure to tic, but I've become adept at suppressing it, bottling it up and capping it tight. At home, where I'm free to be myself, it's a very different story. My tics come and go. Six months ago, I began squirting air from my mouth the way someone might blow hair off their face; a few weeks later, I started hocking as though to spit a loogie. Like uninvited guests overstaying their welcome, both tics remain with me as I write these words. Sometimes a particular tic will go away only to return a year later, like an exasperating big brother who'd gone off to college and come home with a sly grin and a shaggy beard. Related: "I Thought This Was Normal": People Are Sharing Diagnoses They Received After Someone Else Pointed Out Their Symptoms There is no cure for Tourette — all you can do is try to manage your tics. There are treatments available, ranging from antihypertensives like guanfacine and clonidine to alternative options like the antipsychotic drugs risperidone and Abilify. But I'd honestly rather have tics than the potential side effects these drugs can cause. When I was first diagnosed, I tried guanfacine and I'd wake up in the middle of the night so parched that it was like I'd swallowed sand; my sleeplessness felt more like a punishment, especially since the drug didn't even control my tics, so I quit taking the pill. Since then, I've chosen no other treatments, though I recently learned of a promising option I will try called 'comprehensive behavioral intervention for tics,' or CBIT. This doesn't involve any drugs. Instead, it trains you to change your behaviors and tic less. Researchers estimate that between 350,000 and 450,000 Americans have Tourette syndrome, while roughly 1 million have other persistent tic disorders. There's said to be insufficient evidence to determine the number of adults with Tourette because many people simply outgrow their tics by late adolescence. According to the Tourette Association of America, the condition 'occurs in 1 in 160 (0.6%) school-aged children, although it is estimated that 50% are going undiagnosed' (italics mine). A 2022 survey by the group suggested that 1 in 10 children with a tic disorder 'attempted suicide at least once during the past 12 months.' That's a scary number, and it speaks to how difficult it is for many people with tics to feel comfortable in their own bodies. I'm glad that kids (and their parents) who are diagnosed with Tourette today now have resources available to them — including a supportive community — to feel less stigmatized or ostracized by this awkward thing in their lives. I did not outgrow my tics. Because it's hard to admit publicly something I've always internalized and associated with shame, few people know this part of me. Even if you're not bullied or harassed, hurt and humiliation run deep; they form scars that are easily scraped off. How many other adults fly under the radar, as I do? Who, like me, never outgrew their tics but developed strategies for concealing them? Who didn't benefit from services that the Tourette Association of America offers, or the wealth of research being done today? Who struggled to form truly lasting friendships for fear of being exposed as someone with tics? Apart from the nuisance of having tics, I live what society would likely deem a 'good' and 'regular' life. I have a wife, a child, a great job, a house, and a creative life as a writer and translator. I have Tourette, but Tourette doesn't have me — though my wife would certainly disagree with this. When we got together 25 years ago, I suppressed my tics in front of her, but you can't hide something like this from someone you live with. I no longer try. Even on those nights when my ticcing body keeps her up, she's supportive. Since I've spent a lifetime hiding my tics, I've become successful at blending in, even when I'm meeting people for work or on stage in front of an audience, giving a reading or interviewing authors. But I've also experienced moments of deep loneliness. Retreating into yourself is a good way to not be publicly embarrassed, but you pay a price. Eventually, you end up feeling like a ghost in your own life — known to no one but yourself and a few carefully curated individuals whom you trust. I don't make friends easily. Later this year, I will publish my debut novel, The Book of Losman, after translating more than a dozen novels from Danish and writing countless unsold manuscripts over the past 30 years. It's about a literary translator, like me, with Tourette, but that's where the similarities end. It's a speculative fiction about a man named Losman who lives in Copenhagen, Denmark, and gets involved in an experimental drug study to relive childhood memories in the hope of finding a cure for his Tourette. Why not? The beauty of fiction is that you can imagine anything you want, provided the world you create is believable. In real life, I can't go back in time to reassure the little kid who got called out in elementary school, but I'm old enough to understand something he couldn't: 'Normal' is a highly subjective word, one laced with many assumptions. At nearly 50 years old, my tics (and the need to control them) are ingrained in the very fabric of my being. Even after publishing this essay, I will continue to hide my tics in public. Why? The stigma is a great burden. The line between dignity and humiliation is, in the end, a thin one — at least for me. I truly admire those in the younger generation, who can go on TikTok or YouTube and put themselves out there for the world to see. That's not for me. But by sharing my story here, what I can do is help normalize Tourette and other tic disorders. People like me, we're all around you. All that we ask for is what every human being deserves: to live a judgment-free life. K.E. Semmel is a writer and translator of more than a dozen novels from Danish and Norwegian. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Ontario Review, Literary Hub, The Writer's Chronicle, The Southern Review, The Washington Post and elsewhere. 'The World and Varvara' by Simon Fruelund is his most recent translation. His debut novel, 'The Book of Losman,' was published in October 2024 (Santa Fe Writers Project). Find him online at and on his Twitter/X page, @KESemmel. This article originally appeared on HuffPost in June 2024. Also in Goodful: This Woman Is Going Viral For Begging Women Not To Get Married Right Now, And Personally, I Couldn't Agree More Also in Goodful: People Are Sharing Their Biggest "How Doesn't Everyone Know This?" Facts, And I'm Honestly Embarrassed I Never Realized Some Of These Also in Goodful: "I Can't Wait For This To Go Out Of Style": People Are Sharing Popular Modern Trends That Are Actually Pretty Toxic
Yahoo
08-06-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
'I thought Tourette's was about swearing'
Yasmin Bartle was 20 when she was diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome. As part of Tourette's Awareness Month, she opened up about how a shopping trip led to a confrontation. As a child, Ms Bartle said she had "a few little quirks" including involuntary arm movements and making whistling noises. "There was a peak when I was probably around 10 or 11 and we were going through SATs [primary school exams]." Ms Bartle said the symptoms became less frequent until she contracted meningitis in 2019, an infection that affects the brain and spinal cord, according to the NHS. "We [the family] noticed these little things were becoming more frequent," she said. On one occasion, she said she was queuing in a shop and suddenly threw a bottle across the store. "I was so shocked because I didn't know where it had come from or what had just happened," she said. "My arm was always flying out to the side and I had a lot of head and neck tics and a few little noises." Ms Bartle was initially diagnosed with tics before being told she had Tourette Syndrome a year later. The 25-year-old from Hull said she was confused and "in denial." She said, like many people, she thought Tourette's was about swearing and she did not swear. "I was embarrassed and I hardly left my house," she said. On another occasion, Ms Bartle was in a grocery store and called out "alcoholic". She said another customer thought she was referring to them because they had a bottle in their hand and it escalated into an argument. She said: "I'm trying to say I have Tourette Syndrome. I'm really sorry and they didn't believe me." Ms Bartle said things began to improve for her when she said she was taken to a support group run by the TIC Yorkshire charity in Hull. "I realised, actually, there are a lot more people here that are a lot more like me and going through what I'm going through," she said. A year after being introduced to the charity, Ms Bartle became a volunteer. She said she wanted to challenge misconceptions about the condition. She said, when the charity tells people their child may be experiencing tics or Tourette's, parents feel relieved their child does not swear. Coprolalia, which, according to the NHS, is an involuntary use of obscene words or socially inappropriate remarks, is not the worst symptom, she added. Ms Bartle, who has written a book about the condition, said it was the mental tics, the compulsions and pain that most people with Tourette's would rather take away. She said it was important to research and understand the condition and urged those suffering to reach out for help. Tourette's Awareness Month takes place between 15 May and 15 June. This year's theme is being misunderstood due to public perceptions often shaped by stigma, jokes, and misinformation. According to the NHS, tics are fast, repetitive muscle movements that result in sudden and difficult to control body jolts or sounds. Tourette's Syndrome is a term that is used when tics have lasted for more than a year. According to the charity Tourette's Action, the condition affects one school child in every one hundred and is more common among boys. It says over 300,000 children and adults are living with the condition in the UK. Listen to highlights from Hull and East Yorkshire on BBC Sounds, watch the latest episode of Look North or tell us about a story you think we should be covering here. 'I was commonly told I was faking my Tourette's' 'Ticket kiosk closure could trigger my Tourette's' NHS T.I.C. Yorkshire Tourette's Action BBC Action Line
Yahoo
08-06-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
'I thought Tourette's was about swearing'
Yasmin Bartle was 20 when she was diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome. As part of Tourette's Awareness Month, she opened up about how a shopping trip led to a confrontation. As a child, Ms Bartle said she had "a few little quirks" including involuntary arm movements and making whistling noises. "There was a peak when I was probably around 10 or 11 and we were going through SATs [primary school exams]." Ms Bartle said the symptoms became less frequent until she contracted meningitis in 2019, an infection that affects the brain and spinal cord, according to the NHS. "We [the family] noticed these little things were becoming more frequent," she said. On one occasion, she said she was queuing in a shop and suddenly threw a bottle across the store. "I was so shocked because I didn't know where it had come from or what had just happened," she said. "My arm was always flying out to the side and I had a lot of head and neck tics and a few little noises." Ms Bartle was initially diagnosed with tics before being told she had Tourette Syndrome a year later. The 25-year-old from Hull said she was confused and "in denial." She said, like many people, she thought Tourette's was about swearing and she did not swear. "I was embarrassed and I hardly left my house," she said. On another occasion, Ms Bartle was in a grocery store and called out "alcoholic". She said another customer thought she was referring to them because they had a bottle in their hand and it escalated into an argument. She said: "I'm trying to say I have Tourette Syndrome. I'm really sorry and they didn't believe me." Ms Bartle said things began to improve for her when she said she was taken to a support group run by the TIC Yorkshire charity in Hull. "I realised, actually, there are a lot more people here that are a lot more like me and going through what I'm going through," she said. A year after being introduced to the charity, Ms Bartle became a volunteer. She said she wanted to challenge misconceptions about the condition. She said, when the charity tells people their child may be experiencing tics or Tourette's, parents feel relieved their child does not swear. Coprolalia, which, according to the NHS, is an involuntary use of obscene words or socially inappropriate remarks, is not the worst symptom, she added. Ms Bartle, who has written a book about the condition, said it was the mental tics, the compulsions and pain that most people with Tourette's would rather take away. She said it was important to research and understand the condition and urged those suffering to reach out for help. Tourette's Awareness Month takes place between 15 May and 15 June. This year's theme is being misunderstood due to public perceptions often shaped by stigma, jokes, and misinformation. According to the NHS, tics are fast, repetitive muscle movements that result in sudden and difficult to control body jolts or sounds. Tourette's Syndrome is a term that is used when tics have lasted for more than a year. According to the charity Tourette's Action, the condition affects one school child in every one hundred and is more common among boys. It says over 300,000 children and adults are living with the condition in the UK. Listen to highlights from Hull and East Yorkshire on BBC Sounds, watch the latest episode of Look North or tell us about a story you think we should be covering here. 'I was commonly told I was faking my Tourette's' 'Ticket kiosk closure could trigger my Tourette's' NHS T.I.C. Yorkshire Tourette's Action BBC Action Line
