Not Every Mother's Nightmare, But Mine

We are all painfully aware of what happened in that elementary school in CT last week. My sympathy for those involved is two fold. As a parent, even though my children are considerably older, I can only imagine the pain and the never-ending sense of loss they will feel from that day forward. I can't bear the thought of losing one of mine, regardless of their age or regardless of the circumstances. There is the old adage that no parent should ever have to bury a child and it will never stop being true.
Secondly I feel for the mother of the boy who did this and I'll explain why. I am mother to an extremely willful and defiant child. Most people would say that kids go through those stages where they test boundaries and experiment with rebellion. And while that may be true when it's coupled with the fact mental illness runs in my husband's family my anxieties are fueled to bonfire proportions.
I've watched, almost obsessively, both of my children for signs of distress. Every one of my daughter's mood swings, every act of defiance in my son sent my mind racing for answers. Is this normal for their age, part of puberty or a sign of something more sinister to come. I've talked to doctors and counselors about how to tell if either of them had inherited their grandmother's bi-polar disorder. I was assured time and time again that any errant behavior was part of growing up or just an under-stimulated, intelligent child acting out of boredom.  But more importantly I was told that officially they couldn't diagnose anything until they were older. Evidently puberty does quite a number on brain chemistry so no official diagnosis could be made until things had settled down (late teens/early 20's). And even then we might have to wait for a psychotic break.
While my son has never been violent, never threatened our lives or gotten in anything more than playground fight I still see similarities in the news stories about the young men who've done these horrible things. I'm so afraid of these similarities that I find myself looking more for things that don't match up. He loves animals so unlike most serial killers he hasn't killed any neighborhood cats or dogs. He never was a bed wetter (which most psychopaths are said to have been). He exhibits protective behavior toward the elderly and small children. I hold onto these things in my mind, little slivers of hope that he will come through whatever this is he is going through and emerge the young man I long so desperately to be proud of.
Right now he hates me, and honestly right now I'm happier not having him around. I threw him out Friday afternoon and he didn't return until Sunday night. With the exception of the few times I broke down and cried thinking/worrying about him I forced him out of my mind and had a pleasant, stress free weekend.
I wish I could express these feelings more eloquently, but I'm trying to quickly purge my brain so I can go about my workday without constantly thinking, "Could that be my son one day?"