I’m 34 years old and I have 2 years left to live.

The funny thing is (that’s not really funny): is that up until 2024 I didn’t want to live. I spent from the age of 13 to 33 wanting, wishing, hoping to die. I was extremely suicidal and spent most of my life trying to get past the things that made me feel broken.

I spent most of 2024 trying to be better. I quit smoking cigarettes and weed after 17 years of consumption. I quit drinking sugary drinks. I drank a shit ton more water. The biggest part was that I wanted to live. Like, I don’t know if anyone understands what it’s like to want to live for real, after spending almost your entire life wishing you didn’t exist. But it was huge for me. My outlook changed on almost everything. Happiness came to me and filled me. I was ready for pretty much anything that came my way.

Except this.

During all of those changes and finding what happy could feel like, I also became sicker and sicker. I went to countless doctors trying to find the solution. Most of them said I just needed to lose weight (I’ve been obese my entire life)… but I knew my body. I knew something else was happening. So for the first time in my entire life I stood up for myself. I kept pushing. And finally, after almost an entire year of trying to find someone to LISTEN, I did.

On June 9th 2025, I was admitted to the cardiac ICU. I was told that I have a disease called Pulmonary Hypertension and that I had right side heart failure. Finally I knew why my organs were shutting down, why I had to have my mom push me in a wheelchair to go anywhere, why I couldn’t go up 3 steps without almost dying. It wasn’t weight related, in fact in my case it’s genetic. I’ve had it forever and no one knew because it’s an incredibly hard disease to diagnose. I was in the hospital for an entire month. They said if I hadn’t came when I did, I most likely would’ve died in a couple months time.

Ive mainly laughed my way through it so far. I’ve always used comedy as a coping mechanism, and really have no idea how to go through this without making jokes.

I never thought I’d have to see so much sadness in everyone’s eyes. I never thought I’d be here for it. I didn’t think I’d have to plan my own funeral, and if I did think about it I thought I’d be 78 not 34. I didn’t have to think about “this might be my last birthday”. I didn’t have to imagine a last Christmas with my mom.

But now I do.

I haven’t succeeded really in anything in life except one or two things. Which I think are enough. I loved people as much as I could. I am kind, I am caring. I would be the random person at the bar who would listen to your story while you cry, just because I knew you needed to let it out. I spent most of my life heartbroken, so I always tried to show empathy to those who needed it.

I’m going to leave this world without finding someone to love. That was my goal in life. To find a partner and get married. I never wanted children biologically but I always thought when I was old and grey maybe I’d mentor a couple kids.

I don’t want people to feel bad for me. I want people to read this and go love harder, smile more, hug someone they wouldn’t. Go live your life fiercely. Do things that make you proud. Do things for you. Stop and think for a second, stop rushing.

I didn’t really have a place to write this. I looked for support groups for people that are dying and I found nothing for me. There’s about 5000 groups for people who lost someone, but I’ve found nearly nothing for people who are facing death. So if you have any resources or know of any online support groups, I’d be really thankful. I really want to talk to people who are going through the same thing as me or close to it.

Thanks for listening.