I panic when I am seen
I panic when I am seen.
Please avert your gaze.
I have spent all afternoon crying in front of my altar, writing writing writing
Prayers, these feelings that woke up with me today
“Today I am feeling this shame,” and the moment I became alone, it all poured out to such a degree that I filled up three cups of tears. And they all spilled all over the rug.
Eyes connecting with mine feel like a blessing, a promise of connection, or maybe reminding me of an ancient one
Am I the same in every life time, or just especially fucked up in this one?
I read an old passage in my journal, and cry from how far I’ve come, and then cry again minutes later because I am not where I want to be. But I am here, and that has to count for something.
When did I start internalizing that I was not good enough? I wish I could point at a single moment, fix it, move on, but there are many moments that taught me to fear me.
Me, me, me! How are you so selfish? Why do you think it’s okay to be this way? And other encouraging questions keep me in stasis with self,
I panic when I am seen, I panic when I am seen, please avert your gaze. Please. Please. Please!
So many warnings of how terrible it could be have stopped me from even attempting. “I’m just warning you.” Warning me, or limiting me? Warning ME?
See, now I’m pissed. And when I’m angry I’m quiet. And now I’m angry because I’m quiet when I don’t want to be, am not choosing to be, am just coping with the overwhelming emotion I feel inside of me, like lightning through my veins while fire ignites my blood stream,
Today, I woke up not liking who I am. Today, I woke up wanting to be different. Today, I said to myself, “haven’t you gotten past this by now?” as if I can grow out of parts of me that have always been there, from the time I was young, existing plainly and without judgment until suddenly others’ perceptions meant e v e r y t h i n g to e v e r y o n e
During the times I feel most liberated, I am treated the most harshly
People do want to see me hurt, fail, fall down. People do get pissed off when I show I am deserving of decency, respect. People do get upset when I fight back. People do project onto me the unhappiness they feel in themselves.
These people do not see me. They could not see me for who I really am, because I exist in a wavelength they cannot comprehend, I exist outside of THIS.
Somewhere along the way, my tears stopped, the pain in my chest has slightly dissipated. I remember being in my body again. “It’s not that serious. It’s not that deep. Or maybe it is? Maybe it was?”
I am at odds with myself. When I sew up one seam, another 3 burst open in the most embarrassing way. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused while trying to avoid myself.
Do you see me? Are you seeing me? Our eyes connected, and you saw me. I panic when I am seen. Please avert your gaze.
