It is now after 1am, and I am still up...fretting. About The Boy. He has given me loads of stuff to fret about in his soon-to-be fourteen years.
He is still awake, in his room. I walk by the door every so often to see if the light is off. If it's not, I open the door, turn the light off, and encourage The Boy to lie down and rest (I do this in my calm, soothing voice - I am verbal Valium). I knew he was awake - I could hear him muttering, his voice carrying through the wall. When I looked into the room, he was building stuff with Legos and talking to himself, instead of sleeping.
Was it the nap he took this morning that made him sleepless tonight? He awoke at dawn, ate three chocolate chip muffins, and went back to bed at 7 this morning. Some mornings, he is like an infant - he goes right to sleep after his stomach is full.
Is he jazzed up about his birthday? It's on Tuesday, and he's anxious about what gift he gets. He has his heart set on a video game that is beyond the birthday budget. I've tried to tell him not to get his hopes up.
Was it the cake he had after dinner?
He took all of his meds at the usual time tonight, they're enough to knock out a horse. He's usually asleep by 9:00 on weekends.
I hope his wakefulness was due to one of these minor, temporary things. But my fear is that we have welcomed a guest into our home once again. I am on the alert for that thief of sanity, Bipolar Mania (who prefers to be called Mania).
Mania is a very bad character. He causes The Boy to laugh too loudly, to talk too fast (known as "pressured speech"), his brain moving at light speed, and his mouth trying to keep up.
He called his sister three times today, and talked for a long time. He was at times charming, and others, insulting. She was very tolerant this evening.
One time when Mania was our house guest, The Boy said he felt "just a little too happy" - that is what I fear.
Mania, far worse than a caffeine buzz, lets The Boy stay up for days. Days where he is running, and busy, and irritable, and immune to logic. He.can.do.no.wrong, in his mind. Mania tells The Boy that he is witty and wonderful, that there is no limit to what he can accomplish, where no request is out of the realm of possibility. And if sleep does come, it comes in small doses, and is fitful, and very unsatisfactory (for me, and for The Boy).
You know, he did laugh really loudly at the movies today. I heard him as soon as I walked in the theater after I returned from a bathroom/mental health break.
I must remain ever-vigilant with The Boy, and it is an exhausting marathon event. I cannot go to sleep if he is awake, lest I wake up later and find the contents of the refrigerator missing - Mania has a big appetite, and doesn't clean up after himself. Mania likes big messes, and The Boy is always willing to accommodate his guest.
In the past, Mania and The Boy have visited neighbors, arrived uninvited, and worn out their welcome. Mania is a big fan of chaos. I bet Mania gets a kick out of tornadoes, and relishes in the devastation left behind, and hates it when the winds dissipate; when sleep comes.
Mania loves a good argument; the louder, the better. Mania can't be cajoled, bribed, or gently led to a reasonable conclusion. Mania does not even know the meaning of the words "no", "don't", or "SIT YOUR ASS DOWN".
The Mister has never experienced the joys of Mania. I can safely say that The Mister will not like Mania, not one little bit. And I know that I can't handle two crises at one time.
There are only two things powerful enough to stop Mania: Bipolar Depression, and Hospitalization. They aren't welcome here, either.
I'm still hoping it was the cake.