I’ve been on study abroad in Singapore since August. I’m writing this piece while freediving a remote village in Malaysia known for its vibrant corals, sea fans, and a sunken MRT.

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Freediving was one of the hobbies I picked up after J & I separated. I was obsessed with unearthing the ‘fishy’ traits of humans that seemed of myth, or superpower. Learning made me feel a lot better about being broken up with by a guy who I thought could be the love of my life but whom I argued incessantly with... even after the breakup.

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Above sea level, almost anything can push me into a pain that is blinding and puts me on my knees. Below it, my sight is restored. Freedivers enter a trancelike state to conserve oxygen when diving. I experience my thoughts slowing, my world concentrating, an embryonic ripple of pure blue.

Dear diary,

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It is Day 2 on my fluffy-sand-slice of freediving paradise and I like food again! Pulau Tioman is the first time after my breakup that I feel a genuine and consistent appetite. This is despite the fact that the island is perpetually mosquito-filled, humid, and always feels like 40 degrees.

Now i have a lot of goats to keep me company. we are always munching. Amid a barrage of early mornings and late afternoon dive sessions, I manage to cram a lot of time to EAT.

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In-between dives, my instructor tells me to recover and meditate.

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Instead, I close my eyes and think intensely about fried tofu, fried chicken, biscoff puddings, and the smoky egg noodles I’m going to have for dinner.

Ironically, I lost significant weight at school, where things were pristine but stress had me dry hurling into the dorm toilet until i didn’t have the strength to leave my bed.

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In Tioman, the river canals are stewed with a mixture you could DIY with equal parts mud & maggi packets. The earthliness of the pulau cannot stop my divine & core-shaking hunger for gravy covered green onions and stir-fried beef, buttery roti prata sambal with dal, bagged flavored ice... There is a direct correlation between frozen treat consumption and happiness.

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After dinner, the dusk settles around our little shack, constructed of wood and plaster & thatched by palm leaves & sheets of serrated metal pounded thin. “Life is good,” I think, munching on a stick of Oreo ice cream & plantains. The freediving club plays Saboteur and Audi is eaten alive by a plague of large bugs.

Dear diary,

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On Day 3, I wake comfortably to the crow of roosters. Each morning, my roommate Bo & I walk to AIDA2 class at the village’s fray. We have a banana or two for breakfast & learn theory under the fronds of expansive palm trees, squinting at the weakly backlit screen of my instructor’s ancient & sandy Samsung tablet.

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My learnings:

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1. In freediving, athletes slow their heart down and go deep with a single compressed breath. O₂ depletion & CO₂ buildup brings upon a series of predictable physiological responses like rising CO₂, the blood shift phenomenon, and diaphragm contractions.
2. In heartbreak, the deprivation is oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin. Grief pulls you out of your mind, and your body responds with its own cascade of cortisol spikes and disrupted circadian rhythms.
   
   

Freediving taught me a lot about how to slow down and listen to myself. The current WR for static apnea is 24 minutes in a single breath hold. A strong contractive urge to breathe starts at 1 min for most people, but the average person can actually live without oxygen for several more!

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Both freediving & heartbreak teach you to sit with discomfort, and to trust that your body can handle much more than your mind believes. I could barely wait 10 minutes before I asked J to get back together again. Now, I can hold my breath for almost 40% of that time.