Clear Blue Line

Twilight Zone: The Movie came out in 1983 and contained four stories. In one a young child turns out to be a maniacal brat with bizarre powers. I sometimes feel like I'm one of those people in that particular storyline. My teeth grit and my cupped fingers land on my lips as I watch what's going on around me. What's going to happen next?

I watch my brother do carpentry work at Dad's house. He jumps from one project to another. Granted it's an old house and there's lots to do in this weekend he's dedicated to helping out. On the list: install a new shower stall, replace some bad flooring and hang doors. But why doesn't he stick with one project? Is he bipolar? No. He works in the construction business and is used to getting on with the next project while something is setting up or drying.

I watch Charlie install our new dishwasher. This leads to a plumbing project to replace the faucet, which leads to a major leak under the house. He's also been painting walls and ceilings at Dad's house.

Is this mania? Around the house projects are something he's not done in years. His old mix of Depakote and lithium left him hermitized on the couch.

I'm cringing at the edges of these new projects, chanting to myself. Please let it be feeling good, not mania.

Finally, I pull my fingers away from my lips and confront him as he crawls out from the house. "Are you manic?"

"No." Pause. "Maybe a little. I gotta go exchange my radio. It's not catching stations."

If it was alcohol on an alcoholic I feared I could just lean in for a kiss and a sniff. What I need is a home mania test I can buy at Walgreens. If I only had a stick for him to pee on. A clear blue line would be mania and no clear blue line would indicate just feeling good.