I'm Not Real

I am not real.
At least I don't feel real.
I feel as if I'm just watching from a distance.
A peeping tom observing this stranger's life.
I'm not here.

My eyes are a TV screen projecting every moment to the real me.
Every conversation or event.
I'm not at them, I'm watching.
I just feel as if I don't really exist here.

Where is the real me?
Not this life I'm just watching on this TV.
It's cruel, dreadful, and sad.
My body feels like it's only an illusion.
Like I could do anything with it, and I can't feel it.
It's a crash test dummy.

It's worse when I look into the mirror.
I see my face and my body, but I can't feel them.
They don't belong to me, and it scares me.
It scares me because I see a stranger through this TV screen every day.
I wish I could change this channel.
Or just pull the plug in general.
I'm scared of what I'll see if I turn it off.
To finally stop watching, and see the real me.
What if I'm wrong, and there's absolutely nothing?