Well, first it taught me humility. I can only suppose that by striking I was making some meaningful statement when in reality most people probaby thought I was nuts. I thought I was going to be heard.
I only really learned personal things. I learned what it feels like to be hungry for a long time (a short time for African, Ethiopian, and other permanently starved children and dying parents from many REAL starving countries), that hunger is a very harsh, harsh reality. Yes, there are days you can lie in bed energyless, unwilling to care about important things and completely forget about hunger. That is real.
And I learned there are days where you feel like you could eat a large pizza, a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, and other foods you might dream of whereupon you feel sick after eating too much of them. Bloated and full, yet unsatified from the guilt of selfish indulgence. It's true. There is nothing satisfying about that at all. I did it. I should know.
And then I blog to people who could care a less. When I thought people DID care, it was only I who really cared, thinking I was making some kind of meaningful statement. Then at the end, to find out, no one cared. Hunger strikes are useless and at the final realization, people are more likely to think you are crazy, not making much of a meaningful statement at all. And for all who are are on my friends list, I recieved nothing in the form of compliment or encouragement.
So what good came of it?
Well I'm hoping people will know that I took a measure of some kind of purpose. Maybe ending the strike I will get that because I did suffer at times. I'm only hoping that people will realize that I did at least something uncomfortable for my cause with FASD. Maybe that I was willing, even in my own mind, that I was making a statement. Well, I think I got the statement. It was mostly, "OK, we'll let you starve - period."
A different good thing that did happen: Even in my strike where I would eat every 3rd day or so, the truly hungry in the world never have had a bucket of chicken that make them sick after gorfing it down. I learned that rice is the best of the worst ways to pig out. Rice with small mixed vegetables mixed in. I think the profound moment came when I could barely get out of bed and that I could not wake up in the morning. I couldn't or wouldn't bother to even move my legs. And yet work to do.
Thanks for following me, not critisizing me, not dissing me or not leaving me. (Actually a couple people did leave.)
I'm back to where I should be but with a much better realization of the hungry in the world. I would more now than ever recommend those info-mercials on TV. I would go towards Save the Children and Unicef. Even the Red Cross and the Army. Unfortunately, I would suggest staying away from the Salvation Army. Sure they serve food - donated food and whatever they get, you get. Other orgs do more. Go to the others first.
Last word. When a drinking mom goes on a binge, she is literally putting the fetus in a comatose state with no food, or bad food. At 50, I've seen a lot in my life and even I admit I've had my own binges whereby bread and butter was the only thing available because the beer money always came first. A starved fetus is an under-developed fetus in a world where the #1 cause of mental retardation is an FASD child.
Peace and bless those little, tiny souls.
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