I hate

a lot.

I know. not exactly Christ like. God forgive me, but I do.

Like, I hate when I walk through the mall with my kids and I "feel" everyone looking at me and judging me. I hate when I let the paranoia take over.

Usually around my time of the month (sorry guys....but its a fact of female life. Get over it), I get REALLY paranoid. Like I walk through Walmart thinking one of them hicks the other customers is gonna steal my kids. Seriously, you've seen them - they are too freaking cute for their own good and people around here are too friendly for this ex-New Yorker.

So I would get panic attacks.

Anyways, back to what I was saying. Today. Mr. Man, the creatures and I went to the local mall. Monkey loves the water fountain in the middle of the mall and Mr. Man needed to go check out something about his phone. Since I obviously just had surgery (if its not obvious to you - well, shame on you for not being psychotic...no wait. Ha. Psychic...crap. What is the word?), I stood with Monkey at the fountain. I felt like I was 500 lbs, especially since I had to wear my pregnancy pants.

Yes, I am still recovering and should shut my brain up but hey, its my brain. What can I do?

Then Monkey wanted to get up and start walking.

Me being the ever awesome mother agreed. We walked part of the way after Mr. Man and I felt one of my stitches pulling. I had to sit down. I tried to get monkey to let me sit down, but he just started screaming and throwing a fit. Then came the stares and then...came the thoughts.

Wha? Didn't you know with Bipolar 2 disorder comes the ability to read minds?

Yeah.

"Look at that fat lady. She can't even take her son for a walk in the mall."

"That poor kid has to deal with such a lazy mother"

I felt the hot glare of a disapproving vieja staring me down.....I finally got up. Was there an actual vieja staring me down? No. But I felt it.

But heres the thing - normally? Shoo....nothing about this post is normal. "In the past" I should say. In the past? I would get the anxiety attack. I would get the heart palpitations, the sweaty-ness. the depression about how fat I was. This time?

I easily shrugged everything off.

Okay....I'm not delusional. It wasn't easily. But I was able to shrug it off. I still feel like I'm 3000 pounds, but I dont care what people think of me. Okay...thats a lie too. I do hate that. I hate that I care. When will I not care?