This is getting to be a habit

And by "this", I mean ranting here in blogsphere. Nevertheless, I see little recourse, and therefore shall preamble no longer.

I recently found that I was having difficulty breathing. A quick visit to Doc#1 yielded a diagnosis that the haze had caused my sensitive sinus to flare up, resulting in excessive mucus secretion, which led to my lungs becoming a little congested. A standard battery of meds was prescribed, and I thought no more about it.

A few days later, to my disappointment, I was no better. Upon consultation with my mother, we decided that a trip to my family doc, Doc#2, was in order.

I made the trip the next day. Diagnosis was a slight flare up of my asthma, for which a strong corticol steriod was prescribed. Feeling somewhat more positive about this new set of meds, I went home and dutifully took the meds as instructed.

No better.

So two weeks after seeing Doc#2, I was having so much difficulty breathing that it actually hurt my chest and neck when I tried to inhale. Further conversation with my mum pointed to another visit to Doc#2, after which if I'm not better, to seek higher power, namely, a specialist.

Thinking about the dollars and cents, it made sense to hope that my second visit would fare better than the first.

In Doc#2's office for the second time, I was examined, and after a somewhat pensive pause, I was gently enquired if I was under stress. Always one for a witty repartee, I answered that in good old Singapore, who wasn't under stress?
Doc#2 laughed politely, then iterated that perhaps my increased stress level was causing me to experience a phenomenon known as "air hunger", where the body perceives a need for more oxygen than it does.

This is a direct result of the stress I was under; literally, I was drowning (albeit on dry land).

I was prescribed some tranquillisers, and told to get my stress under control. Muttering under my breath, I said that it's good advice; now how do I go about it? As usual, the older generation points to the promised land, but fails to deliver the map.

And so here I am: tranquilised because I'm stressed out. Thing is, thanks to my keen cognition (modesty is also tranquilised), I know exactly what's stressing me out. And yes, I can hear the people at the grandstand of my life saying I'm over-reacting, he's not worth it, I should just let go, life is too short to be angry, yadah yadah yadah...

It's not that I disagree. I agree wholeheartedly! The point is: these kind words cannot alter what I am feeling in terms of my emotions. If you are at this point wondering what I am talking about, suffice it to say that it involved another person, a business relationship, money and a severe lack of normal, human decency.

In short, I got stiffed.

And yes, that made me angry. Angry at being so stupid, I was taken advantage of (again!)... angry at how long it took for me to see this was happening... angry at having put in so much into what I thought was a good, solid relationship... angry at how blind I was.

I don't want to remain angry, but I don't know how to deal with this. It's making me sick, and I want it out of my system, but I seriously don't know how to achieve this.

So here I am: tranquilised, punching mindlessly at the keyboard, hoping that this barrage of emotional vitriol will have a cathartic effect.

At least this won't take my breath away...

aw