Have you ever wanted something with all of your being? Despite time passing, circumstances changing, and priorities evolving? I have. And now my wish has come true, but not only in a way I never expected, but possibly in the worst way I can imagine.

A short refresher on my life, I have been dealing with severe depression all of my life. Yes, my entire life, or as early as I can remember, which is probably about 3 years old. Granted, according to my mother, I was a “Happy” child. Though, I don’t remember ever not having that underlying anguish. Though it wasn’t until my early teens that my “sadness” evolved into a more active form with not just the desire to die, but the willingness to end my own life. I first attempted to take my own life at 15, with random household chemicals in emptied supplement capsules. Obviously, this didn’t work, and at this time I was still able to keep my torment to myself. Several months to a year later, I tried again, with some pilfered medications of my mothers. Mostly some pills I collected over the months discreetly enough that my theft was not discovered, nor would it effect my mother’s health. This too did not succeed, and I also just went on with my life with none of my friends or family any the wiser to my suffering. It wasn’t until I was 17, that I fully hatched a plan with a definite chance of success. I shoplifted 2 bottles of over the counter sleeping pills from a major supermarket, and was honestly using them for a time for the insomnia that often accompanies depression. Though, at 17, I was obviously an idiot, and was obsessed with romantic relationships and how others perceived me, as is pretty normal for a high schooler in my opinion. Though to wrap things up, I wrote up a note, posted it on the social media for the time, took the remaining bottle and a half of sleeping pills, and laid down to die. A friend of mine saw the note online, called the police, and my life was saved, much to my disappointment at the time.

Since then, I could no longer hide my mental illness, I went in and out of hospitals, IOPs, therapies, and believe it or not, completely avoided medications. My father, who I’ve spoken of before, was incredibly adamant that I do not take any medication of any sort for my depression, against the “recommendations” of all the medical professionals I saw at the time. Now, over a decade later, I’ve since tried medications, to no avail, tried alternative treatments, tried invasive treatments, more or less everything medical or otherwise you can do for depression. I only had success once, with ECT (Electro Convulsive Therapy) and it lasted for about 2 years before my depression returned. I tried again last year, and this time it didn’t work. At this point, I resigned to my fate of this being my life forever. I know that I should keep trying, but giving myself that hope, spending the time, effort and money looking into new treatments, to be ultimately disappointed once again; gets very tiring.

So, what happens when someone who’s ultimate wish is to die, receives the news that they are in fact dying? Last month, I would have told you that they would be ecstatic, and feel released from the shackles of their ailments, and try living life without reservation. I would not be able to say the same thing if you asked me today though, as I went through that exact scenario I’ve played in my head thousands of times. About 2 weeks ago now, I lost vision in my right eye, slowly and not completely. It was like a fog was gathering in my vision, slowly obscuring everything I could see. I went to the hospital after losing about 90% of my sight, was admitted, and ultimately diagnosed with Optic Neuritis, swelling of the optic nerve. Though, through an MRI scan, the doctor informed me that they found the cause of this swelling. Plaques of demyelinated brain tissues, which they said is enough evidence for them to make a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. Now, if you don’t know, MS is a incurable yet treatable, debilitating, painful, and ultimately fatal disease that slowly strips away the functions of your body and your control over them. Now, I know you may be thinking, “But Alan, MS is treatable, manageable, and can often not affect one’s lifespan or standard of living! It is not a death sentence!” You would be completely right in thinking that, and that is where I find myself conflicted.

I have wanted for nothing more than a quick, painless death for as long as I can remember. I do not fear death, but I do not like pain. I have dreamt of being told by a doctor that I have “x” months to live. It was something that kept me going, this fantasy of being given some of the worst news one could receive. But when I was told about my MS, I suddenly was ripped in two opposite directions. Not only did my wish come true, I am dying and no one can stop it, I also now know why I am always physically struggling as well. On the other hand, the one thing I did not want, a slow, agonizing death is the one that awaits me. Not only that, but the disease varies person to person, subset to subset. I could live another 30 years with not another flare-up and essentially not even have ever known I have MS. I could also become a complete vegetable in 2 years. I am new to this, obviously, so I am unaware if there are any tests that can tell what variant of MS I have, or a possible timeline of progression if any.

So I suppose if I could sum up my confliction, it would be the joy of knowing that my time is limited and putting a name to my suffering; with the fear of uncertainty. Which, on paper, sounds rather insane, but I feel that the fear aspect is at least justifiable. I still want to die. I am unsure if that will ever change, it might even grow as I deteriorate. But, at least for now, I will continue living, as well as I can, for as long as I can. Not with hope nor anticipation, but perhaps more of a reckless disregard for certain standards I’ve held myself to up till now. I honestly cannot tell you what my future holds, but I know that it will not be bright, that much has not changed with my diagnosis. As I continue to sort through my feelings, and plan for the inevitable, I do hope at some point I will at least reach a form of balance in my life. I know this was a rather roundabout and pointless endeavor, but I do hope that a glance into my current state may offer something of value to you. I wish you all the best, and I will see you again soon.