I don't know how much time I left to live....but I have less time than everyone thinks....(Just wanted to yap about my life for the last time)

Idhu probably naan Reddit la podra last few posts la onnu irukkalam, honestly enakku ippo edhuvum predict panna mudiyala. I'm 22 and almost 4 years ah enakku oru disease irukku nu theriyum, and unfortunately idhuku proper cure illa nu enakku already theriyum, so life ah normal ah plan panradhu itself sometimes romba strange ah irukku, because most people at my age are thinking about career, marriage, money, travelling, buying a house, parents ah take care panradhu, next five years enna panradhu nu plan panraanga, but naan sometimes next five years ah vida next few years la naan iruppen ah nu yosikkiren. That's something I've never really been able to explain to people. I'm not saying this for sympathy or anything, it's just the reality I've been carrying quietly for years. In these four years, life somehow managed to take almost everything I thought was stable. Relationship pochu, and yeah, she cheated on me. I don't even want to spend too much time talking about that because at some point you realise you can't keep blaming one person for everything that happened to you, but still, when somebody you trusted completely does that, it changes something in you. After that, family la one thing after another happened. My grandpa passed away, my dad passed away, and then we lost our home because we couldn't repay the loan. I don't think people understand what it feels like when a house stops being a house and becomes just another thing you have lost. Now it's basically my mom, my sister and me trying to figure out everything. Career, money, studies, family, future, health, everything somehow feels like it has to be handled at the same time. And then there is this whole insurance thing which is probably the weirdest part of my life. There is a 4 crore insurance under my name, and sometimes I genuinely feel like my periyappa is just waiting for something to happen so he can claim it. I don't even know whether I should laugh at how fucked up that sounds or be scared about it. Imagine already knowing that you have a disease you can't simply cure and then knowing there is a huge amount of money attached to your death. It's a very uncomfortable thing to live with. Maybe I'm overthinking some of it, maybe I'm not, but I don't have the energy anymore to investigate every person's intentions. I've spent the last four years trying to understand what is happening to my own life. Some days I'm completely normal. I go to college, do my work, talk to people, laugh, scroll Instagram, Reddit, watch random videos, play games, make stupid jokes and basically behave like any other 22 year old. Then suddenly some random thought comes and reminds me that my situation isn't actually normal. Sometimes I look at people around me making five-year plans and I just stay quiet because I don't know if I'm even going to get those five years. And that's the part that nobody really sees. They see a guy who's functioning. They don't see how much uncertainty is sitting in the back of his head all the time. I've also realised that grief isn't one big dramatic thing. Sometimes it's just something small. You see something that reminds you of someone, you remember your old house, you open an old photo, you remember your relationship, you think about how different your life was supposed to be, and suddenly you feel this weird emptiness for no particular reason. Then you close your phone and continue whatever you were doing. That's basically how I've been living. Something hurts, you ignore it, something else happens, you ignore that too, and eventually you have so many things inside you that you don't even know which one is hurting anymore. I don't really talk about this stuff with people around me. Not because nobody cares, but because after a point you get tired of explaining your life. You don't want to make every conversation serious. You don't want people looking at you differently. You don't want someone treating you like you're fragile. So you just say “I'm fine” and move on. Sometimes I'm not even sad. I'm just tired. Very tired. Not physically. Just tired of constantly having to accept things I never wanted to accept. Tired of thinking about money. Tired of thinking about my family. Tired of thinking about my health. Tired of wondering how long I actually have. Tired of knowing that eventually this disease is going to decide something for me that I don't get to decide myself. And yeah, I know everyone dies someday. I know that's the most obvious sentence in the world. But there is a difference between knowing you'll die someday and knowing that you have a condition that could actually shorten your life and having that thought sitting somewhere in your head while you're still 22. It makes ordinary things feel different. Sometimes I look at something completely normal and think, “Will I still be here to see this a few years from now?” Then I feel stupid for thinking like that and go back to whatever I was doing. That's basically the cycle. I don't know when I'm going to die. Maybe I have more time than I think. Maybe I don't. Nobody can give me that answer. And honestly that's the scariest part. Not knowing. Not having a date. Not having a countdown. Just this uncertainty sitting somewhere inside you. I still have things I want to do. Obviously I do. I'm 22. I have dreams, stupid plans, career ideas, places I want to see, things I want to buy, people I want to make proud. I still want to build something with my life. That's probably why all of this bothers me so much. If I didn't care about living, none of this would hurt this much. I want a normal future even though I don't know whether I'll get a normal amount of time to have one. And sometimes I feel angry about that. Sometimes jealous. Sometimes completely numb. Sometimes I just don't feel anything. I think that's what happens when you've been dealing with the same uncertainty for too long. You stop reacting to everything. Something that would've destroyed you two years ago just makes you stare at the wall for five minutes now. Maybe that's what four years of this does to someone. I don't know. I'm not writing this because I expect strangers to come and save me or because I want hundreds of comments. I honestly don't even know why I'm writing it. Maybe I just wanted to put the whole thing somewhere outside my head for once. Somewhere nobody knows me. Somewhere I don't have to explain who I am before saying how I feel. There is no big lesson here. No inspirational ending. No “everything happens for a reason.” I don't believe that anymore. Some things just happen. Some people leave. Some people die. Some things get lost. Some things can't be repaired. Some diseases don't have cures. Sometimes you just keep going because there isn't really another instruction manual for life. So yeah, that's where I am right now. 22 years old, trying to study, trying to figure out a career, trying to take care of my family, trying to deal with a disease that I know can eventually kill me, trying to accept that I might not get as much time as I thought I would, and somehow still waking up every morning and doing normal things like nothing is wrong. Maybe that's all life is going to be for me for some time. Just one normal day after another, without knowing how many normal days are left. And I think I've finally stopped pretending that doesn't scare me. I know I'm going to die someday. I just don't know when this disease is going to make that someday arrive. And that's something I'll probably never be able to make peace with completely. Anyway… that's it. I don't really have anything else to say. Just another random post from another random 22 year old who has had a pretty fucked up few years and is still somehow here.