Raising Bipolar

Back at the homestead:

Earlier this week we went to the Sheriff’s office and filed the case on the teacher from last week.  On the Sheriff’s part, the investigation was done and everything was filed and now it was time to do our part.  The Sheriff told me I needed to take Rye with me to file so I did.   In the vein of the “Scared Straight” discussion from a few days back, the poor kid nearly had a stroke when we got there and he saw the razor wire and set up at the jail that was attached to the court where we had to file the charge.  Between the razor wire and the unsavory characters hanging out in front of the jail release area, Rye vowed right then and there that he never wants to go to jail.  Ever.  He was completely freaked out and commented that although he’s joked about it in the past he had no idea what he was talking about and now realizes it is no joke and has no interest in it.  At all.   And all I could think was man, you didn’t even see the inside of the place of the real workings of it all but apparently the outside alone was enough to do the trick.

Unfortunately, though, although the experience was unavoidable as we had to file the charge, the stress of the whole experience put Rye into a full blown anxiety cycle that was very hard to get him out of.  He woke up yesterday morning saying he felt like he was going to burst into flames and desperately wanted an Abilify as he was miserable and firing at about 1000mph.  So I gave him one [and I'm not sure about the whole thing of it having to be in his system for weeks to work because he is extremely med sensitive - as am I - and one pill helped him.  It calmed him significantly within a few hours].   He was petrified to go to school because the Sheriff’s office said the teacher would probably be served that day at school.  I told him he could stay home.  Believe it or not after all this the teacher was still working.  Amazing.  Welcome to the South.  We aren’t exactly a beacon of civil rights down here, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, he stayed home and we had many discussions of bio-dad (who was heavily on his mind after the visit to the jail as well as having to recount the assault from the teacher.  All of it triggered a lot of hard bio-dad memories).  We hashed through his thoughts and feelings and memories and then got on with the day.

And, what were we to do with our time?  Sit around and stew?  Heck no, we headed to the lake, of course.  Get the heck out of Dodge, I say.  And fast.  We needed a break.  And to be honest, I’m a big fan of running away.  It’s an underrated reaction, if you ask me.  It really does have it’s time and place and can be quite satisfying if done without harming anyone.

We talked the whole car ride there and had a really nice time out on the boat.  The weather was great, the lake was empty and it was incredibly peaceful and healing.  Rye fished and talked about his plans to go pro.  I sunbathed and listened.  It was a moment of heaven.

We ended the trip with a rousing car dance-off on the ride home [in case you don't know what this is, it's dancing while sitting in your seat driving or traveling in a car].  I am quite the car dancer as I’ve had many years of practice.  And Rye is getting there.  He tries.  And he is learning.  But I still won.  I have years on him so I have an advantage.  It’s not fair really, but that’s life.

I’m not sure I’ll ever forget those moments on the boat though.

They were exquisite.