My life is a walking hell. An endless stream of suffering. I've considered Suicide many times but I always find the same ridiculous excuse to soldier on. Not family, or friends, or some great purpose. What keeps me on this side of the river Styx is a board game. A magnificent board game!
I was born a narcoleptic. This means I fall involuntarily asleep numerous times everyday. With some effort I can maintain consciousness for perhaps 30mins to an hour, but inevitably the disease wins and the lights go out. Of course this puts significant limits on what I'm able to do. Driving a car is out for obvious reasons. Walking alongside a busy street is exceedingly dangerous. Taking a bus or a train is possible but being awake for the EXACT moment I need to get on and off is difficult. It often takes 4 or 5 hours to make a trip that should take 20 minutes.
The practical difficulties are only one side of the suffering coin of my diseases. The far sharper knife is the wall that Narcolepsy builds between me and other people. First of all, Narcolepsy has taken a terrible physical toll and I look far older than I really am. I'm 27 but I look like a man in his 60s or 70s. This is typical of Narcoleptics. Many people will understandably interpret me as being drunk or an addict when i fall asleep. Making and keeping friends is nearly impossible and a romantic partner is pie-in-the-sky ridiculous.
The only small sliver of hope is Chess. I found chess like many people found Jesus. She saved and redeemed me in my most hopeless moment! The endless complexity allows me to focus my mind on something other than my dire circumstances. I'm even able to compete! When a game takes 4 or 5 hours you can spend 1 or 2 sleeping and not necessarily lose the game. I've found that eating sugary foods will both keep me awake longer and lesson the frequency of Narco-events. It's not terribly healthy of course but an extra few minutes of consciousness in a game can easily make the difference between winning and losing. Of course my opponents always have a huge advantage in effective thinking time but I can make up for it with superior skill and understanding.
I play as often as I can at the local Chess Club and it's been a godsend in the form of new friendships and purpose. Unfortunately nothing can be so perfect in my world and there is one terrible exception to the otherwise universally positive effect of chess on my life. There is one young man at the club who seems to have been put on this earth to make me suffer. He does not believe in Narcolepsy and thinks my disease is "an act" either to gain sympathy or as a tactic to win chess games. Worryingly he also has a history of violence and has even been known to attack opponents after losing a game! I have no idea why he's allowed to continue playing at the club.
The club championship is next week and If my games go well I will surely be playing this young man as he is one of the better players at the club. The wise thing to do would be to lose the game on purpose to avoid his wrath. Unfortunately I have always been more proud than wise. I've always believed that a good life is not measured in years. What is it worth to carefully avoid risks only to die anyway of some mundane cause? If my last act on earth was to be martyred for the club championship I would consider it as well as anyone has ever died. Besides, most of these bullies are all talk. I don't think he has it in him to beat up a sick old man like me.
I was born a narcoleptic. This means I fall involuntarily asleep numerous times everyday. With some effort I can maintain consciousness for perhaps 30mins to an hour, but inevitably the disease wins and the lights go out. Of course this puts significant limits on what I'm able to do. Driving a car is out for obvious reasons. Walking alongside a busy street is exceedingly dangerous. Taking a bus or a train is possible but being awake for the EXACT moment I need to get on and off is difficult. It often takes 4 or 5 hours to make a trip that should take 20 minutes.
The practical difficulties are only one side of the suffering coin of my diseases. The far sharper knife is the wall that Narcolepsy builds between me and other people. First of all, Narcolepsy has taken a terrible physical toll and I look far older than I really am. I'm 27 but I look like a man in his 60s or 70s. This is typical of Narcoleptics. Many people will understandably interpret me as being drunk or an addict when i fall asleep. Making and keeping friends is nearly impossible and a romantic partner is pie-in-the-sky ridiculous.
The only small sliver of hope is Chess. I found chess like many people found Jesus. She saved and redeemed me in my most hopeless moment! The endless complexity allows me to focus my mind on something other than my dire circumstances. I'm even able to compete! When a game takes 4 or 5 hours you can spend 1 or 2 sleeping and not necessarily lose the game. I've found that eating sugary foods will both keep me awake longer and lesson the frequency of Narco-events. It's not terribly healthy of course but an extra few minutes of consciousness in a game can easily make the difference between winning and losing. Of course my opponents always have a huge advantage in effective thinking time but I can make up for it with superior skill and understanding.
I play as often as I can at the local Chess Club and it's been a godsend in the form of new friendships and purpose. Unfortunately nothing can be so perfect in my world and there is one terrible exception to the otherwise universally positive effect of chess on my life. There is one young man at the club who seems to have been put on this earth to make me suffer. He does not believe in Narcolepsy and thinks my disease is "an act" either to gain sympathy or as a tactic to win chess games. Worryingly he also has a history of violence and has even been known to attack opponents after losing a game! I have no idea why he's allowed to continue playing at the club.
The club championship is next week and If my games go well I will surely be playing this young man as he is one of the better players at the club. The wise thing to do would be to lose the game on purpose to avoid his wrath. Unfortunately I have always been more proud than wise. I've always believed that a good life is not measured in years. What is it worth to carefully avoid risks only to die anyway of some mundane cause? If my last act on earth was to be martyred for the club championship I would consider it as well as anyone has ever died. Besides, most of these bullies are all talk. I don't think he has it in him to beat up a sick old man like me.
