Depression, the Heaviest Weight I’ve Lifted Yet

Health

Depression, the Heaviest Weight I’ve Lifted Yet

W

hen I shattered my wrists last year, I didn’t think that my twin loves of writing and weightlifting – both of which I was rendered incapable of doing – would save me.

I’d tripped on my own feet while walking out of the gym and got a hairline fracture in one arm, and a screw implant in the other, which left both my arms in casts for eight months. It turned my life upside down. I couldn’t get in or out of taxis, washrooms. I needed to be fed. I was left wondering when I’d be able to write with my hands again, especially with a looming deadline for 3, my novel based on the myth of the founding of Singapore (where I live) by a Srivijaya prince.

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