I love reading about people and the places of the world. It's just very insightful to me, to know how they live and how's that compared to mine.
I just borrowed a book from the library about a boy who was diagnosed with AIDS. His name is Ryan White and I'm sure he's damn popular back home in Indiana. Having to handle the daily jabs and discrimination is not a pleasant thing, I can really relate to that, to a lesser extent of course. I don't know what it feels like to know that I'm gonna die in a given time. I know I always write that I am going to die, without meaning it much. All out of frustration and pent-up anger, but reality is not like that. Death is hard, no matter in what way that person die.
A friend of mine, Cindy, lived in Indonesia and she would often tell me about how the kids would scavenge and search through bins for leftovers. And here I am, wasting food because of bulimia. I know things are rough all over, but somehow it seems irrelevant. No matter how little or how much food I consume, the lives of those who are desperate for food and fighting for their lives are not going to be better. I cannot possibly send my food there. It just doesn't make sense.
It's screwed. I can choose to be healthy because I am capable. I have no Aids, I have no diabetes, and I have nothing to do with illness. I cannot explain why certain kind of people like me do this to themselves, but whatever it is, it's still a struggle. We're influenced greatly by the people around us. I'm sure a while a lot of people are fighting against obesity, the same amount of people are against emaciation too.
I know I can never be the next big thing. I realise I can never be perfect at all. But I'm still doing this, because it gives me something to look forward to. Something to achieve. I've always told myself that I should always go forward and do my best to be who I want to be. I can do the 'go forward' part, but the person who I wanna be, is not me. Hence, to be perfect, is utterly impossible.
I always dream about having making big money and get my family a good life. My grandmother has been suffering poverty for so long and my dad's trying hard to give her money. He works two jobs, because that's the only way to gather more bucks. Two of my useless uncles are jobless and not caring to work. As a family, we cannot ditch them, although our other relatives totally discriminate them. It was sad. Family is supposed to stick together, but because of money, we fall apart.
To think realistically, if a woman wants to be successful, she has to have everything. The perfect body, the perfect face, the perfect brain, and the whole package. It's really hard to say that I doing this for money, but the truth is, I'd rather suffer a little, and gain a more comfortable life for my loved ones to live in. You don't know how painful it is when the mean kids in school make fun of your home.
"Mandy, haha, your place is horrible. It's so small, no garden, it's ... how do you survive for so long?" they said.
I know I don't come from a rich family, but at least we don't abandon our family members who are penniless and leave them to beg for food. We may not have the money, but at least we have some compassion in us. My mom still donates money to SPCA and other organization, although it's not much. We truly value our lives very much. Despite the many attempts of suicides I've made, I never want to die. You have no idea how much love I have for everyone and myself.
Yes, I love myself. If I don't, I would not be struggling with bulimia. I'm fighting it, and I know I'll be okay as long as I keep my head straight and take baby steps towards recovery. It has been 4 days without abusing food, and I think I can be proud of that. I'm still hanging on.
To those who are fighting illnesses and facing eating problems as well... one day when I have a good job, I'll definately contribute something to the community.
Life may be rough all over, but in some places we just have it good. I'm lucky to be born in Australia.
11:35 p.m. - 2004-06-26
Recent entries:
kristian - 2008-09-04
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