My Life With Scopophobia

Have you ever had the feeling that somebody is looking at you? You look around and see nobody, but you just knowyou’re being watched? That’s how scopophobia feels every minute of every day.

For most of my life I’ve felt like I was always being watched. It isn’t a malicious feeling, I don’t feel like “whoever” is watching me is trying to harm me, or spy on me, or that they even care about me. I don’t think they are judging my actions, or my body, or my house, or my hair, or the fact that I’m not wearing shoes. It’s just that they are looking at me. Right now, from somewhere.

For a long time I didn’t recognize this disorder as anything but “normal”, but a couple years ago, when I moved into a new house that had a lot of windows (and very few window coverings), I began to realize that there was no room in my house in which I felt like I could relax. Even though I lived alone, I didn’t feel comfortable even changing my clothes unless I was in the bathroom or bedroom, with the blinds drawn. When I cooked dinner I felt like there was somebody right outside the window, or in the house next door looking out his window into my kitchen, watching me cook. Again, I never felt scared, they were just watching.

Most days, the feeling is mild and barely noticeable. When I’m at my desk at work, it’s the people outside my window, or in the apartments across the street, that are watching me, even though my building has mirrored glass that you can’t see into from outside. It might also be the hidden security cameras, even though there aren’t any. When I’m in my car, it’s everybody. People may be watching the road when I glance at them, but as soon as I turn away they are looking at me. Even the person in the car in front of me is watching me in his rear-view mirror. On most days this “attention” is normal and I barely notice it.

Sometimes, though, the feeling is worse. Not the intent of the “watchers”, they are still harmless and peaceful, but the number of watchers and the amount of attention they are giving me sometimes gets intense. On these days I have a strong desire to retreat into a nice, windowless room, undetectable by anybody. I think of the movies I’ve seen where some filthy rich person has a hidden panic room. From the outside you can’t even tell there is a room, but inside, the owner sits and watches the world go by on video screens while in perfect seclusion. Even then, I couldn’t be sure the contractors that built the panic room didn’t install a hidden camera that was currently watching me hide. So burying myself under, oh, a pile of rags or towels while inside the panic room, that might do it.

As you might imagine, this feeling can get frustrating. I get tired of being on display at all times, in all scenarios, without even being able to imagine a time when I would be 100% sure nobody was watching me. However, for me, it’s not debilitating. Even though it’s annoying, it doesn’t reallyprevent me from doing anything I want to do. OK maybe I can’t skinny dip in my hot tub when it’s anything but pitch dark night, but I would probably refrain even without my disorder. My neighbors to the rear have a two story house after all. For the most part, though, I’m fully functional. Hopefully I always will be.