The way I think of it is that we cannot know what we will think in the future. We might look at people with Alzheimers and imagine their lives are horrible. But that’s looking at it from the outside. We don’t know what it’s like from the inside. Sure, we can see frustration and anger in some, and relaxation and love in others, but that does not mean they would not choose to be dead rather than what they do experience.
You become a different person when you are sick. You are related to who you were, but you are different. That different person makes different choices. Should the former you make the choices for who you are now? I have a lot of problems with that.
When I was depressed, I was very close to wanting to die. I knew it would end the pain I was feeling. People kept telling me not to make any decisions right away, because things can change in a few months. I knew they were right, even if it didn’t feel like they were right. Anyway, this is a case where people try to overrule your choices. The difference is that death is an irrevocable choice. If you are alive, there is always hope for another moment of pleasure. I don’t think your former self has a right to guide your current self. If you currently want to stay alive for that moment of pleasure, that is what counts.
If you want to die, desperately, and you still want to die three months from now, or six months from now, they I would consider helping you commit suicide. I’m still not sure I would feel comfortable enough with you giving up hope to allow you to do it.
They say that in some cultures, when a person feels they are too old to be anything but an unbearable burden on others, they may walk off into the woods, or onto an ice flow, and let what happens happen. I imagine being on an ice flow that breaks off from the main ice, and I can no longer get back. It’s too late to change my mind, and in my culture, no one will help me. They respect this decision. The ice I am on gets smaller and smaller, and eventually it drops me in the water. If the shock of the cold doesn’t give me a heart attack right away, I will soon grow too cold to move or think, and then go under, suck water into my lungs, and the oxygen will cease, and I’ll be dead in a minute, maybe two.
There are probably less painful ways to go. Freezing to death has it’s moment of agony with the cold, but then it supposedly gets all warm and blissful. I’d rather go without pain, and preferably without angst and fear. But I have no idea what I would feel when death was that close, and so I can’t make that decision for my future self. I don’t think anyone can.