Is there anyone who follows this blog who will get that reference? Maybe Emily.
Anyway, it's 11:30 am, I have been out of bed for two hours, and today is a good day.
I haven't written a blog in a little while, not this month, but that's through gentle nothingness rather than a problem or success. Then yesterday I felt a little tired, like I had walked ten miles before waking up. This has been the first symptom of my times of exhaustion. No sickness, just being tired. It usually lasts four days, and the middle two days have previously been times of utter exhaustion. I also hurt my back, I do this twice a year or so after injuring it thirteen years ago, climbing in through the bathroom window after forgetting the keys to the house. So, I went into last night in pain, facing exhaustion.
This morning my darling wife took The Face of Evil to daycare. I got twelve hours of sleep and my back feels better. The expected exhaustion is not there. My back feels better, but most of all there is peace in the house. I am alone.
This may seem strange, that being alone is special. After all, don't I spend all day during the week alone? In terms of humans this is true, but in terms of a presence, a consciousness, a being that impinges on my awareness, I am almost never alone. I am either with my darling wife, or with The Face of Evil, and often with both. The Face of evil is without doubt a conscious being. It knows what it wants, it reacts to what I do, it communicates, it has plans, it can feel sad, rejected, unloved. It can also lie and scheme and pressure you to do what it wants.
The main reason why social work was so damaging to me was that I am completely incapable of switching off my attention to other people. I find it very difficult to sleep if other people are talking, or moving, because my mind has to pay attention. If someone says something to me it almost always stops my train of thought. If someone laughs, or cries, or exclaims in surprise, I must know why. I have seen people capable of doing this, my father-in-law being an astonishing example, and my wife isn't bad.
The Face of Evil is a pack animal. I am alpha male. It is vital in a pack animal that attention is paid to the alpha male. The alpha decides where to go, when to sleep, when to eat, who to befriend, who to attack. The beta has its wants and desires, but must filter all of these through the alpha. The methods used are begging, wheedling, being obvious, being sad, showing delight when it gets its way, etc.. Dogs have been interacting with humans for ten thousand years or more, and subject to the most rigorous selection pressure in evolution (breeding for domestication). As a result dogs are true experts at reading the emotions of humans, the only animals that can do so. The Face of Evil is a very smart dog indeed.
What we have then is a consciousness whose focus is overwhelmingly towards me, who can read how I am feeling, and manipulate those feelings for its own interest. it is only when I am alone in the house that I realize how omnipresent The Face of Evil truly is. I realize that with almost everything I do there is an automatic, unconscious check on how it will affect that infernal canine. Before I leave the house I often use the toilet. As such, whenever I go to the bathroom The Face of Evil appears expectantly, and if I don't leave the house obvious disappointment results. If I lie down, he lies down in the room. if I go upstairs he does too (in search of a treat). If I start doing anything he inspects it. In the evening, if I sit down, he stares at me with liquid brown eyes, often putting his face just on the edge of my personal space. His presence is omnipresent. He expects more than two hours a day out in the world, at certain times, specifically for his enjoyment. I imagine anyone who has had toddlers knows exactly what I am talking about, although my brain hasn't been altered by parental bonding.
All my life I have been someone who treasures time alone. From perhaps six years old I would go for solitary walks. I would read alone. Play alone. Alone I am at my most free, without that constant vigilance (which I believe I at least share with my sister Emily, perhaps other family members, it certainly was important to be constantly aware growing up in my family).
The Face of Evil has probably kept me from despair, from deep loneliness, here in Texas. He is the antithesis of alone. I spend most days around another conscious being for all twenty-four hours. When I don't, it is usually no less than twenty-two hours. Today I feel free, happy, joyful. A weight has been lifted. The Face of evil is like a vaccine against loneliness, but a vaccine given with a big needle every single day.
Who's a good boy then?
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