The Day I Dread (No, not my Birthday!)

I grew up to be a very blessed girl. I always believe I possess the bestest things in life - No, I'm not rich in terms of material possession but I think am doing fairly well with the rest. I have parents who love me more than anything else in this world, three brothers and lots of friends who listen to my senseless qualms and still accept me for who I am, an almost perfect job, colleagues who also can be good friends that I can open up my heart to ... I am blessed and all these I get for free or at least I didn't feel I have to work for it or maybe I worked for it but effortlessly. It seems to me that nature just bestowed these blessings upon me without me asking for it and I am guilty for the many times I don't appreciate them. I am blessed but not thankful and I confess.

As a natural pessimist though, I silently doubt if these blessings will always be there. They just seem to be too good to be true. More than once I told my mom, I dread the day that I have to suffer arrives and I can't handle it because I'm used to having so many people around protecting me from any discomfort. I dread that no matter how these people pull me hard up to save me from those sufferings, I won't be saved. I dread that the blessings I have won't be enough to keep me safe.

I'm Back

I went to the hospital 2 days ago to see a doctor but the doctor I was supposed to visit wasn't around. Sheer desperation prodded me to randomly pick a name, whoever, out of the doctor's list. I didn't really care if he's any good. I just badly needed a doctor to cure my indigestion and shortness of breath problem. Yez, I was sick the past few days which explains my disappearance. =)

Choosing randomly, my mom and I just silently hoped he would be experienced enough, meaning old enough. See, we people tend to associate older doctors as better ones coz they are for the simple reason more experienced. Evidently I am not a good picker as the name I chose wasn't the ideal doctor. I was surprised when I stepped into the clinic to see a very young-looking guy (around 34-35) sitting on his desk. My mom was kinda disappointed to be honest. But I didn't mind. Never mind he being relatively young and inexperienced, catching a rare sight of a cute doctor is already good enough.

2 days after, I am well though I still get dypsnea occasionally. I really don't know if my getting well was because of the medicine he prescribed or simply because my doctor was cute. Anyhow, I am ok.

Anxiety Attack

I am suffering from occasional shortness of breath lately. It's been a discomfort I'm experiencing ever since I was a teenager and its haunting me every once in awhile.

I was investigating on what might be the possible causes of "dyspnea" through google and one of the potential factor is anxiety. Could it be that I worry too much?
My friend is also experiencing the same problem so I told her it might be due to her anxiety too. She then told me it is far from possible since she's not worried about anything. "Well" I said, "According to my research, shortness of breath is a symptom of anxiety attack or lung cancer. What do you think should I assume then?"

"Oh, then I must have anxiety attack too." she responded.

Child at Heart

Two weeks ago I went to this chic mall with my mom. We were just strolling around a store when suddenly we heard a loud bang alongside the door. Apparently, a little girl bumped her head off onto the glass door. When I turned my direction to her, she was already running furiously fast out the of the place.

Funny how even a little girl of 3 or 4 can already be conscious about getting embarrassed. My hunch was that she didn't want the people to find out about her misadventure hence the immediate disappearing act. I might be wrong. I remember seeing many kids from the past go through stumbles and witness them run to their mom to cringe and cry. Some cry out of pain. Some out of embarrassment. Some out of shock.

The best thing however is that these kids forget. You see them crying the first minute then catch them playing around laughing like a clown the next as though nothing happened. They just don't care. To them, things are automatically left behind right after they're done sulking. As simple as that. They don't carry their burden around like a baggage. Unfortunately, I carry my burden everyday as if it would help me live a happier life. Maybe, if all adults can act at least half like these kids, there should be less depressed people out there.

Looking Back

I am ashamed about my last two posts. If I am one blog passerby who happens to read the last two posts, I will convict that the writer is pathetic, bitter and desperate. On second thought, I am quite bitter so why bother defending myself. =p

I remember having read an email about a little boy having gone to heaven and found he has a stack of index cards in God's filing cabinet which are accumulated throughout his living years. The stack that lists his sins are a number of feet long while the stack that lists good deeds are only a few inches thick. Suddenly, I imagined my blog as those index cards. It freaks me out to think that if ever God will base my merits from this blog, I might as well give up my chance and go directly to hell.

But then again, not that I am justifying myself, I am inclined to blog when I am not in the good mood. Bitter as I am, I don't think this blog will be a useful basis. I think, I still am good in general. On another note, who said I should care too much about going to heaven? In Buddhist teachings, one must live selfessly and compassionately and those are enough for one to reap a good karma in his next life. That should be enough.