Food Wasted On Me

After a week of not eating, chewing has become a real chore. It's exhausting and pointless. Especially when you're not the least bit hungry or appetised by any thoughts of food. Even when I felt a tiny bit of hunger, the first few seconds of chewing would take a toll on my jaw muscles and I would rather stop eating than to tire my mouth out.

Argh! A week of fever (devoid of meds and drugs, and food) has changed me somewhat. I am no longer a foodie. Though I never really was; I hated to waste food but I was never fussy with flavours. I could eat something that everyone hated the taste of or even doubted the freshness of, just because I hated to waste it. I am constantly reminded of my starving days so I would eat it gratefully, knowing that this could save a life. If only I could get the food to those who need it most at the time. It irks me when people throw perfectly good nutrition away. Just because it doesn't taste good or fresh anymore, or simply cos "I won't eat the same thing twice a day".

Of course, I am no judge or authority but my opinions are simple. Count your blessings and stop being so spoilt and stubborn, I'd say. Exchange places with a starving mother in a war torn country and let's see you complain that the milk expired yesterday or that you think the chicken is bland. Seriously?

Anyhow, I was happy to leave a tiny carbon footprint over the week. Less food and gas were utilised on my insignificant existence. I was not even hungry. It was awesome actually, to know I can still exist and stay alive with so little resources. I don't see why I shouldn't win Survivor. I don't think it was ideal for my health but who the hell am I to deserve more than an innocent starving refugee struggling in the cold? Eating extravagantly almost feels like I am laughing in their faces. That's probably just me. But I feel sick wasting food knowing this. :(

That said, I am going to try to eat again (how frivolous and wasteful!), despite the fact it's so damn tiring and not even appreciated by my lousy taste buds and tummy now. I sincerely wish I could give the food I am encouraged to eat to a poor family. It is precisely because I treasure food and hate wasting it that I honestly don't want any of it right now. It's wasted on my dead taste buds and lack of appetite. All food does to me now is fill me with guilt, shame and self-disgust.

Now I feel guilty for not wanting precious food but I would feel more sinful forcing myself to eat when my body obviously doesn't want or need it. Argggghhhh!

Independence & Guilt

I never like to write anything personal here. It's my secret blog. Like a diary. But since no one will find it (me thinks), here's something rather personal and historical.

The last number of days saw me bravely (and stubbornly) battling a fever. I didn't want to consume any chemicals as I believed it was best to remain drug-free and get my body's immune system to kick in and do its job. Practice makes perfect and I wasn't gonna let it off so easily and just bringing in outside help, which, in fact, is no help at all.

Drugs aren't all bad as most of us know by now. But the drugs that employ lots of chemicals or have been processed greatly make me wonder what side effects they may be whispering about in the lab. I understand that medicine usually doesn't heal (unless it's antibiotics or a specific treatment, etc; & I'm no expert), but just suppresses or alleviates symptoms.

I wished out loud to a friend yesterday, "I wish cigarettes wouldn't smell so foul. Wish they would smell like nothing." (No offence to smokers. Some of the people I love dearly are smokers. It's the tobacco companies I cannot respect.) Then I realised we would be breathing in endless wispy clouds of second hand smoke because our noses can't detect it.

That, to me, is sort of similar to denying your symptoms with prescription drugs but not healing your illness. I also never like the idea of being dependent on anything. Though many people seem ok with that.

I always imagine an apocalyptic future where survival of the fittest will be the norm. So I do not take bottled vitamins, moisturise, or pamper myself with small luxuries (like meals that cost above S$3, taking a bus when I could easily walk a couple of stops). It's probably silly of me but I think a painful experience thanks to... gee, I actually forgot his name... made me resilient, independent, & most importantly, taught me how to say NO.

This... feller... needed money and asked me for S$50,000. Seriously? Who has that kind of money? I actually asked my parents if they would be willing to help and they said the story sounded fishy (sister in jail for credit card late payments, he needed money to bail her out), so needless to say they didn't and added a word of advice that I shouldn't try to help either. I only had about S$4,000, which I felt was a lot, and since he promised to return everything in two weeks, I lent him all of it, wishing his family well.

I don't think I need to tell anyone how that story ended. Unwilling to hear "I told you so, stupid girl", I kept it from my family. I put acting and emceeing on hold because I couldn't wait 3 months to be paid. I would starve to death and my landlady would kick me out. I hated begging for my own hard-earned money in vain.

For 8 months or so, I worked a day job in a cosmetics shop & at Hyatt at night. Hyatt was my wisest move as I was only spending money on cheap food (not even water, which I would drink from taps) & rent, & could no longer find other ways to save. Besides late night rides home, Hyatt kindly supplied me dinner & packed supper, which I would take home to eat for lunch the next day. Good thing I never was a breakfast eater. That would blow my budget. It was this period that I stopped snacking. It was a waste of money that didn't keep me full.

What I loved most was that I learnt how independent I could be, & that it's my right (& anyone's f**king right) to say "no". What I loathed most was that I could have been spending time with my wonderful father just before he died instead of slaving in a cosmetic shop for $5/hour.

The boss of that shop came to see me the next morning, to collect the keys. That's all. I didn't expect him to care actually and now looking back, he wasn't very customer oriented. He would also rather throw away old testers (which were still good to use) than give them to the staff if we wanted them. I once asked, & he said, "sure, take it. $5."

At the time, a friend also convinced me to buy some multilevel membership and I was against it simply cos I didn't have the money and I refused to borrow, after seeing how lending has affected me. Someone else I was with at the time thought it was worthwhile and shared it with me. It was a classic mistake of course (I will never go out asking people to buy something I think they should do their own research on first, & I sucked at networking, still do). That friend who sold tje useless membership to us recently apologised to me after many years, and I had actually forgotten about it. I wonder why I didn't get upset with him. Did I feel friendship was such a rare commodity I was willing to compromise that much? He's well to do now. It must have helped him somehow.

I don't know how this post went from a stubborn me not taking any drugs to my painful past. I think my time lying in bed under a sponged cloth soaked in apple cider vinegar gave me time to reflect. Sounds a little similar to the cloth soaked in vinegar that the Jewish soldiers gave to Jesus (I am certainly NOT Jesus!!).

I know deep down I have forgiven... what's his name. Or I would still have his name on my mind and will try to track him down & shame him. If he believes in Allah as he claims to, I hope he will learn in his own time. I hope no one else gets tricked though.

Nothing can bring my dad back. So in fact, forgiving him is irrelevant. I know that at the end of the day I have no one to blame but myself. My gullibility, my stubbornness, my assertion of independence, my arrogance thinking I had to and can get myself out of my self-made mess. Why didn't I just allow myself to be a helpless child of my loving father who needed me so? Oh, if only I could go back in time.

I suppose I couldn't bear to burden him since he was already so ill and dying. And I was never close to my mom, who I was certain would only judge and chastise me. Hence, my renting outside of my home.

All is past now. I cry for my father and my guilt beckons still. But I know everyday is a new day. Someday, perhaps, I might forgive myself.

The weight of Feeling Unloved

Written sometime in November 2013

It's too darn easy to feel unloved. In this world. In this time. In this day and age of technology, quick fixes and a million other distractions.

I am lucky. I know this only too well. Because there is always someone small but precious in my little insignificant life who will be there to reassure me that I am loved.

This brings me to a song I love called, "Unloved". It's a duet by Jackson Browne and Jann Arden.

What Is Food To You?

Today, someone I know didn't finish their fish soup at dinner... so they threw it away. When I was right there and would have gladly finished it for them. They were familiar with this habit of mine.

Later that night, a very delicious bowl of mee sua soup was sitting in the kitchen, leftover from a previous meal, from another day. I thought someone was going to eat it so I didn't ask. They, on the other hand, thought no one wanted it and didn't even ask me, so yes, they threw it out. I was appalled when I found out that a bowl fit for a decent meal, or one to give a homeless man strength, was just discarded like that. When I told them I was heartbroken by the unnecessary food wastage, they just laughed.

I was sad, am sad, over such indifference to food. They say grace and thank God for the food they have but will throw it out just as easily. They are also fussy eaters. What is eaten for lunch will not be seen again for dinner. It can, however, be kept for the next lunch. Especially if it tastes better the next day as tomatoes and vinegar tend to.

That brings to mind another issue. Taste. Is that all that matters? I guess some live to eat while some eat to live. I belong to the latter category. Nothing wrong with the former unless they constantly disregard the usefulness of food flippantly.

It is not my place at all to judge but this is how I feel. I am so pissed off, actually. How come there are people out there who don't appreciate food? Must they become poor or starve in order to start appreciating food? I have starved and I know what that hunger can do, how it feels and how hopeless you can feel. Yet you survive with a little water from a tap, a little leftover from a stranger's plate, a nibble from a cheap biscuit you could barely afford and had spent 40 minutes trying to decide if it were worth your last hard-earned dollar. When you're down to that kind of poverty, you cannot afford to spend money on anything else except what keeps you alive. Food.

I can see that bowl of that mee sua soup now. Sitting in the corner of a kitchen that isn't mine. It meant nothing to them. It was old and unwanted they thought. Well, to me it was fuel for another day to stay alive. For a homeless starving person, that would have been a much needed heaven.

I can keep going but I can't without feeling this restlessness within. As punishment to myself for not rescuing the mee sua soup & fish soup, I will eat only leftovers the next 2 days. Hell, make it 3 days.