What do you do when the future finally arrives?

One day at a time. That’s been my mantra for the past 25 years.

If the past two decades have taught me anything, it’s that life can change in an instant. In 1997, I was a shy 14-year-old with dreams of becoming the next Fox Mulder, searching for extraterrestrials with the FBI. Then a devastating illness sent me on a very different path.

I now use an electric wheelchair to get around and it’s been more than 9,000 days since I last walked on my own two feet. I now try to enjoy the here and now and not put too much thought into the future.

But as I approach my 40th birthday, my future is starting to appear closer than ever.

I never really thought much about what my life would be like in 20 years. It seemed too far away to give it much importance. Besides, any story about a 60-something quadriplegic generally involves some shady group home and a questionable nurse’s aide. Something I prefer not to think about too often.

While that future was anything but rosy, its impending arrival can’t be ignored.

My inevitable entrance into the 40 club has me taking stock of everything. Don’t get me wrong, I have lived an incredible life. Yes, I am disabled, but that doesn’t mean you have to feel sorry for me. My life has been plenty fulfilling and I have accomplished great things. But as I creep towards the back nine of my life, I’m realizing I am running out of time to achieve some of the things I have always dreamed about.

Dating, marriage and fatherhood are starting to feel more like pipe dreams than actually attainable goals with each passing year. As I have grown older, I have thought about these things a lot. According to my daydreams, I’d be a pretty good boyfriend, husband and father. But as of now, that’s all it is. A dream.

Watching “The 40-Year-Old Virgin” hits a little differently nowadays. 15 years ago, it was a hilarious, raunchy rom-com. Now, it’s more of a cruel, unintentional autobiography. A cinematic reminder of what I haven’t, and may never, experience.

As you read this, don’t be sad or depressed about my situation. I don’t think my life is unfulfilled. I’ve got to happily twirl my prom date across the dance floor, chat with Bill Murray and win a power soccer national championship. Everything that I may have missed over my life would have only improved my life. The proverbial cherry on top.

That being said, this year and starting my fourth decade on this earth may finally be what I need to get out of my comfort zone and get a little more adventurous. Have a little more fun in that present I’ve been going on about.

Who knows, maybe I can do my own time heist and find that magical future I’ve been dreaming of. If Captain America can do it, why can’t I?

Here’s why I say 'no' when people ask if I need help

As a quadriplegic, I can’t do many things on my own. I’m what my social worker calls a “total assist.” From getting up in the morning to turning the page of a book, I need help with most daily tasks.

With that in mind, you would think asking for help would be second nature. But it absolutely terrifies me. These moments happen more often than you think. And it happens during different occasions and situations.

It occurs mostly during group activities. Someone will notice me perched in a corner or away from the group and ask if I need help.

I smile politely and respond with a calm, “no thanks, I’m good.” I normally don’t need help most of the time, it’s just me being introverted and shy. But there are moments when I actually do require assistance but decline help to avoid awkward interactions. Like when we eat meals in groups.

I dread attending events with food. For me, it’s a logistical nightmare. If I don’t have an aide or family member with me, trying to coordinate eating is a production, so I generally just avoid it altogether. There’s always someone who asks if I need help, but I always decline.

I am uneasy about it because a lot goes into assisting someone with eating and it’s not quite as simple as feeding a baby or child. Although it could get just as messy. When people ask, I’m afraid that they aren’t realizing what they’re getting into when they offer to help. So I decline since it’s the easiest solution.

After 25 years, you think I would have found a way to overcome this fear, but it is still very much at the center of my mind. I really do appreciate the offers for help, so I hope no one is ever offended when I decline assistance.

Maybe one day I can overcome that anxiety and be more open to accepting help from others. Until then, keep asking.

I became a quad 25 years ago. Here’s what my disability taught me.

It happened 25 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 14 years old and fighting a cold. But on the early morning of Sept. 12, 1997, I stumbled out of my bed and into my parents’ room.

“I can’t breathe, I need to go to the ER,” I murmured.

My dad jumped out of bed and raced me down to the emergency room.

After being airlifted to a second hospital, I fell into a coma. Four days later, I awoke without the ability to move my arms and legs.

My life as a shy, quiet freshman in high school was no more. I was now a quadriplegic and scared out of my mind.

I would spend the next eight months in the hospital adjusting to my new life in a wheelchair. For the next 25 years, I navigated the highs and lows of being a person with a disability. I have learned a lot about myself and the world around me. Here are a few of the things I found:

• Patience is my superpower: When you rely on others for virtually every aspect of your life, you quickly develop a deep sense of patience. Whether it’s waiting for your strength to return or someone to change the channel on your TV, it has come in handy more often than you think.

• Never ever lose hope: It’s been two decades since I took my last steps, but I still try to move my arms and legs every morning when I wake up. Yes, my arms may never lift from my mattress, but that won’t keep me from trying.

• Success and happiness are a group effort: As much as I have accomplished over the past two decades, I couldn’t achieve any of it without my incredible family and friends. Their help has been invaluable and I will never be able to find enough words to thank them.

• Disability is not a death sentence: For years, having a disability has held a negative stigma. Being disabled meant you couldn’t have a fulfilling life or be happy. After being a wheelchair user for 25 years, I can safely say that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure, having a disability isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t immediately mean your life isn’t worth living.

My life has taken plenty of twists and turns since I became a quadriplegic. I met some incredible people, saw some fantastic places and built a successful career. My disability has given me a valuable perspective for which I am forever grateful. 25 years have come and gone and I have learned so much. Here’s to hoping the next 25 years will lead to even more knowledge and growth.

My Life with a Disability

Here is a video interview I created for a contest I entered. I share my perspective on living my life as a person with a disability. Thank you to David Portillo for shooting all of the footage for this project.

The background song is "Your Hand in Mine" by Explosions in the Sky.