The night watch

 

Podcast Magnus Archives by Rusty Quill - Magnus Archives #120 - Eye Contact

What is it with me and being watched? Or wanting to be invisible?

I feel like I have felt like this for the longest time, that it has just become a part of me. To exist I must be watched, I must feel watched. 

Or being watched causes me discomfort and to exist I need to feel discomfort?

Is it to externalize the discomfort I feel inside? At my own self, at my own being? Is it discomfort just a part of being alive? Does everyone feel a small degree of discomfort within themselves? And is it just a normal "becoming into existence" kind of thing? In a sense that to exist is to experience discomfort? I seem to never be comfortable in my own body. In the way I exist and how I exist. 

Inside my head there is chaos. A whirlwind of thoughts, I think so much that I make up things, that I don't yet have an answer to. 

Is it a gender thing? Is it a sexuality thing? Is it a sex thing? A trauma response?

Being a stranger to my own feelings and my own self, has led me to a state of deep misunderstandment and misalignment. If I change will the discomfort go away? Or will it be perpetually there, because I can't run away from myself and being me is being in discomfort. I am discomfort. I made up the word, for my ownself. 

At the eye of the hurricane there it is. The watchfull gaze of the D - blinking everytime I glimpse at it. The I- bending over and laughing, laughing at how I gasp with uneasiness everytime I STARE unblinkingly at the eye of the cyclone. The S slithers around my body, squeezing it tight. Enclosing me and making me feel wrong in occupying the space I occupy. As I close my eyes and try not look at discomfort looking back at me - I miss it. 

I miss the comfort - right next to it. When the DIS blends with the background. When it gets swept away by the whirlwind and taken away with the disaster. The disturbance. The distress, the dispersonalization. Along with the other DIS. Comfort is there. 

And by closing my eyes, I keep missing it. 

How comfort is warm and how it glows, how it pulsates, how I can just rest in it. How it's like releasing a breath. 

I know discomfort pretty well. I wake up feeling it. This unappeasable and unresting energy inside of me.

But what is comfort?

It's a well-meaning well-needed hug. From her, from my siblings, from my friends, from my grandma. From strangers who mean well. 

It's waking up and not feeling pain in my body. 

It's not feeling gripping anxiety.

It's not constantly feeling mentally exhausted.

It's not feeling like my body is not mine. Like it's just a weight.

I feel like some pieces I just want to cut them out and throw them away. Like they are just some useless limb attached to my body. Most days I don't even feel them. 

When I do, the dis comes around. 

The fatness makes me feel discomfort.

Seeing that I might look thinner brings me comfort. But at what cost sometimes?

I experience great levels of comfort when I'm not being watched, when I'm alone. But I sometimes experience a great deal of loneliness and abandonment. 

I'm always performing when I'm being watched. I'm not when I'm alone. 

If I don't have anyone to perform to, how do I even exist?

I don't know how to be by myself. Or I DO and I don't want to look at it. Just like I don't want to look at comfort, trying to run away from discomfort. I keep missing it.