Mr. W NDE

EXPERIENCE DESCRIPTION:

I had recently lost my best friend to suicide and felt so incredibly guilty for having discussions with him about suicide prior to his death regarding how I was planning to kill myself, I felt his death was my fault. I felt I did little to discourage him from taking his own life when he echoed my ideas. 

I spent almost two days in my room crying, praying and asking forgiveness for my part in his death broken only by short spells of sleep. I was so overcome with guilt that I felt as though I had to give back the gift of life given to me, that I did not deserve it. I spent hour upon hour kneeling at the side of my bed begging forgiveness from God for every little transgression I could think of that I had ever committed against another person. Upon realizing that God was not going to oblige me and take away my gift, I calmly went upstairs to my grandfather’s medicine cabinet and took the unopened one of two bottles of Coumadin. I went to the kitchen and got a glass of water and went back downstairs to my bedroom. It took me three hours to muster up the courage to open the bottle and swallow the entire contents, 5 or so pills at a time. After I consumed them I changed into my favorite sweater and jeans and put on a new pair of socks and then turned out the lights and lay down in my bed and waited. 

I laid there for about 30 minutes and then quickly became very drowsy and cold and tried to pull the comforter over me. I felt myself falling asleep though I cannot say how long I slept; I know I did lose consciousness at some point. 

Suddenly I awoke and looked down at my feet and realized that I had only managed to put the comforter over one foot. I felt cold and numb over my entire body and I tried to move my arm in order to pull the blanket over my body when I suddenly realized that I was completely incapable of moving my arm. My arm was not responding to my will to move it. My arm felt as if it was a cold slab of meat that had been set beside me and was not connected to my sense of "me". I started to feel scared and disoriented. I tried to move my legs to get out of bed and go to my father for help. My legs felt as if they were made of lead. They would not respond to me. I knew it was my leg, but the lack of any sensation in my leg would be what I imagine a paraplegic must feel like seeing his lifeless body but not being able to command it to move or to feel anything from it. 

It was at that moment that I realized I was “dying” and that I had not actually moved my head to look down at my arm or my legs. My body was still lying on its back and had not moved. I felt very confused and somehow moved to the side of my bed and I realized I was completely outside of my body. I just stared at it trying to come to terms that I was looking upon myself. I knew that the body in the bed was me, but I did not look on it with the same sense of self as I was accustomed to when looking in a mirror. It was lifeless and pale. At that instant the body ceased to be "me" and seemed to be a broken tool that would no longer perform its task. 

I then looked around my room trying to get a grasp on what was happening and recall that when I laid down the room was pitch black yet I could see everything in my room as if I had never turned out the lights. Everything I looked at seemed so simple, old and archaic in nature. I recall looking at my television and thinking what a worthless thing it was and how much time I threw away that could have been better spent with the people I loved. 

I became aware of my senses at that moment and how much more detailed everything seemed and how it all appeared more focused and more sharp. It was like I was seeing the world for the first time with my own true eyes. It was the equivalent of taking off a pair of foggy ski-goggles or glasses. The colors seemed flat and muted but considering the lights were off in my normally pitch-black room I was astonished to be seeing everything with such clarity. I also recall hearing cars on the main road a good half mile from my house and also hearing the television upstairs on the other end of the house. I could hear my father and grandfather speaking as if I were in the same room. This was abnormal in that my room was below ground in the basement and when I shut my door the room was so quiet all I could normally hear was my own breathing. Likewise there were no windows and the room was completely dark. 

I felt as though I had been liberated from my body and being outside my body freed me from the limitations imposed by a physical existence. My mind felt cleared and my thoughts seemed quick and decisive. I felt a great sense of freedom and was quite content to be rid of my body. I felt a connection with everything around me in a way that I cannot describe. I felt as if I was thinking faster or that time had slowed down considerably. 

I then felt a sensation of warmth behind me and simultaneously could see the room was getting brighter. I turned to see a small pinpoint of light above me floating further away than was possible considering the physical dimensions of the room. I felt drawn to the light and could not look away. As I stared at the point of light it gradually grew brighter and brighter and filled the entire room with light so bright it filled every corner and nook until the room just faded away. I felt as if I was rushing towards a giant, intensely bright, round sphere and was overcome with a feeling of deep happiness and contentment. It felt warm, though not in a temperature sort of way that I was accustomed to feeling with my skin, but rather warmth that permeated me to the core of my perceived "self". It was unlike anything I have ever felt before or since, but it was definitely a feeling of love. Not love in the sexual or intimate sense, but a love filled with understanding, acceptance and happiness.  

The sensation was as if the most intense feeling of joy I had ever experienced had been amplified infinitely and was now a tangible thing that I was immersed in. It was so intense that the worry of the pain I knew my loved ones would feel over my departure was completely stripped away and I understood that mortal life was such a temporary and brief experience that all the pain I had ever experienced seemed so innocuous and benign, it was as if it had not ever mattered at all. The love and warmth felt so natural I felt as if I had always felt this way and it had been taken away from me while I was alive. It was if I had returned to the familiar after a long journey and was finally home at long last. Truly back home in that I knew deeply that I originated from there, I belonged there and my time on Earth suddenly felt so foreign and brief. My physical life felt like it was so long ago. I felt as if I was being showed what awaited me. I knew that it was only available to me if I was worthy and that the circumstances of my passing did not warrant it. I knew then what mattered most in my life. The love I shared, the compassion I had for others, the kindness I displayed to everyone and ultimately how much of myself I gave to those I crossed paths with in my prior life. 

Instantly I was in my room staring up from my bed. I felt intense pain. I felt sick. I felt cold. I was back and I did not like it one bit. I rolled over with great effort and vomited on the floor next to my bed. It seemed like only seconds after my father came into the room and turned on the lights. He stood at the door for what seemed like an hour staring at me motionless with his mouth agape. I could see in his face he thought I was dying. He looked at the bloody vomit on the floor then at me, then at the pill bottle on the nightstand next to my bed. He moved faster than I have ever seen him move and yelled at me "What did you do!" and just kept repeating that. 

He yelled to my grandfather to call 911 several times. I started feeling dizzy and he helped me lean over the bed and vomit into my waste basket. Nothing came up. I dry heaved and every heave was followed by an intense wrenching pain that shot through my whole body. I started drifting in and out of consciousness. The next thing I recall was opening my eyes and seeing my room full of paramedics and police as I was being lifted onto a gurney and strapped down. I recall opening my eyes again just as they were putting me in the ambulance and I saw all the neighbors standing outside in their bathrobes and pajamas in groups whispering to each other and watching me be put in the ambulance. 

The next time I opened my eyes I was in a hospital bed and my entire family was standing around me talking softly. I recall my mother and father who had divorced when I was ten, bickering about how it could have come to this, both laying blame on the other. All I could think of at that moment is how I wished I had not come back. 

As the years have passed I have spent a great deal of time thinking about my experience and I truly believe that I was sent back for a reason. I do not know why still to this day. I do know however, what I experienced does not await me again unless I deserve it through thought and deed. Though I do not currently practice any organized religion, I do think the majority of religions teach the core values that I must live by in order to experience that love again after I "die". I would say that prior to my experience my faith and spirituality was not sincere and was merely echoing the rituals of the society in which I was raised. After my NDE, I truly feel that those tenets mentioned earlier are the keys to happiness and peace in the here-after.  

I feel a deep spiritual connection as a result of my experience to other people, animals and even plants that I had never felt before the incident. I used to watch the news and hear stories about somebody being killed and thought nothing of it and would sometimes crack jokes. Today I feel a deep empathy for family left behind by such events and I find myself moved to tears quite often by simple acts of charity performed by others, especially towards strangers and the destitute.  

I also feel I am able to sense love, compassion and kindness in other people now as a result of my experience just by being near them and speaking with them. It has more often than not proved valuable in determining whether people are being honest with me.  

I do not fear "death" any longer. Perhaps even more puzzling, I look forward to that day with great anticipation. Suicide however will never be an option for me again. I know that if I were to take that route, I would not be able to experience that feeling of love and happiness again.