Six months.
That's how long it's been since I took my first painful, awkward push-up.
Now the dumbbells that once felt like stones feel like extensions of my own arms.
I understand reps and sets. I stretch before and after training. I warm up properly.
I train smart.
But now… I also know when to rest.
---
The dumbbell that fell on my leg reminded me — I'm not indestructible.
So I pulled back. Not out of weakness… but out of strategy.
My upper body still trained. My lower body healed.
And during that time, I focused on something I had ignored far too long:
My exams.
---
For the first time in a long time, I opened a book and didn't close it after five minutes.
I studied.
I focused.
I rested.
But one demon still stayed by my side — my phone.
I'd tell myself "Just five minutes."
But five became fifty.
One video turned into a spiral.
And I realized something: I'm still addicted.
So I made a quiet promise to myself.
> "After exams, I'll use this device like a weapon… not a weakness."
---
But life wasn't done testing me yet.
The itching started slowly.
I thought maybe it was sweat.
Maybe the weather.
But then I remembered that night.
My neighbor's kid had stayed over because their house was overflowing with guests.
He slept on my bed.
He itched like a madman.
His body hair was all over my blanket.
That's where it came from.
The mites.
---
I had passed it to my own parents.
Now they were scratching like me.
Now we were a house infected.
It was humiliating.
It was disgusting.
But it forced a change.
We all had to begin some form of skincare.
Washing everything daily. Changing sheets. Using creams.
It was uncomfortable.
It was annoying.
But it was also discipline.
---
And even with all of that…
I didn't quit.
My training became smarter.
I learned how to work around pain.
How to rest with purpose.
How to heal.
I drank over 3 liters of water daily.
Ate lentils and foods I once hated — and I didn't just eat them…
I respected them.
Because they gave me the strength my budget couldn't afford.
I walked instead of using transport.
I saved every cent.
Bought a resistance band.
Started taking care of my skin.
My weight dropped to 68 kg.
Height went up to 5'8.5".
My face was still rough…
But now it looked like it belonged to someone who had survived something.
---
And then…
That place again.
The white void.
The silent watcher appeared once more.
He didn't speak at first.
Just observed me.
His form… glowing, shapeless, yet deeply familiar now.
Finally, he whispered:
> "Even a wounded beast still learns to sharpen its claws."
He looked at me.
> "You're learning to grow not just stronger… but wiser."
I didn't reply.
But in my chest, something bloomed.
Not pride.
Not arrogance.
Something else.
Fire.
The same fire that was lit on Day 1.
Now it burned cleaner.
Sharper.
---
Back in my room, lying on the bed, scratching my arm and breathing slow, I
looked at the ceiling and whispered to myself:
> "Let the world throw its weight. I've learned how to carry it smarter now."
---
To be continued...