Delirium (dih-leer-ee-uhm): 1. Pathology: a more or less temporary disorder of the mental faculties as in fevers, disturbances of consciousness, shock, or intoxication, characterized by restlessness, excitement, delusions, disorientation, inability to focus, altered sleep cycle, mental confusion, change in arousal, hyperactivity, etc. 2. A state of violent excitement or emotion.
As you may know, I do like being able to put names to my demons. Delirium may be less Demon and more Imp. It is the energy that courses through me in the height of my mania. It is joyful, exuberant, wild, goofy, ridiculous, childish, child-like, immature, rollicking, crazy, distracted, jubilant. It is a 10 year old wired on the heady, blossom perfumed breeze of a Spring evening. It is the buzz of a bee hive in frenzied nectar pursuit on a hot Summer day. Everything is fascinating, exciting, hilarious, gleeful, though few things can hold my attention for long. It is sleepless nights. Pre-dawn awakenings. The urge to run, skip, jump, cartwheel. An overwhelming excitement that builds in my chest and through the very fiber of my being until I want to shout, sing, dance, wrestle, tumble, jump on the bed, climb trees, roll down a grassy slope, run naked in the rain. It is near to suffocating at times, this delirium, a pressure, a force like floodwaters pressing against an already overflowing dam. It is a near to unmanageable power. There is no harnessing it. It is not at my beck and call, anymore than are my mania and melancholy. They have their way with me, these naughty Imps. Though, truth be told, I am a willing victim in cases such as this. As rough as it may be at times, my body bearing the brunt, it is a joyful roughness, there is no ill-intent, no unwanted residual pain. Yes, there may be tender spots, small bruises, scrapes, sore muscles, but they are just gleeful reminders of pleasure, passion and giddiness. Oh Delirium, you are a naughty, tempting, alluring Imp. I am glad that you are mine.