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My mother told me that I started reading when I was 2. I guess that was a huge accomplishment because she was borderline bragging. I was quite a fast learner too and I was very particular with spelling.

Until I got the concussions.

It was not a one time thing. It happened once in say every 2 years. I tripped and landed my head on a rock, crashed head first to the edge of the door, car accident, etc. I bumped my head so many times that I lost count. I have several dents on my skull to prove it.

And then it happened. It’s the most embarrassing thing to admit. I started to confuse my alphabets. I would mistake b with d and p and sometimes q. I confused m with w and battling u with n. 

The books beginning to not make any sense. I love reading and having this weakness is crippling. The last book I managed to really enjoy reading was the Harry Potter series.

Later I disliked reading because I had to repeat the same sentence several times because ‘dear’ could be ‘pear’ the first time or ‘wet’ became ‘met’ or ‘nun’ just look like ‘uuu’.

The Hunger Games was first book that I thoroughly enjoyed by listening. I decided that it was a great idea to drive 3 hours to the nearest city to buy it (I live in a very small fisherman village where no one reads English literature. I should mention that I am from Malaysia) and only then and then only I can sleep at night.

I did not regret that decision. Ever. In fact, I learn to love to read again. Some books are worth crossing 2 states and 6 hours of driving.

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