“Don’t be afraid to go out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.” ~H. Jackson Browne
When I was fifteen, I “died” for about a minute or so and then came back to life. A very severe case of bronchitis that lasted for over a week caused my brush with death. What complicated the situation was my allergic reaction to one type of medicine.
I had what’s known as a near death experience, and it was typical of all other near death experiences.
There was bright light, lots of love, and a huge reluctance to come back. I tried to negotiate with the dude in charge about letting me stay, but he told me I was still needed and that my time was not up.
He told me a few more things about my life, things that were too private to share. Interestingly enough, they all came true.
The last thing I remember before coming back was that I saw my body in bed, and I remember thinking that I looked so peaceful. It was kind of weird to see myself from the ceiling of my bedroom and to watch what was happening as if it were happening to someone else. I then opened my eyes, and life as I knew it was never the same.
Prior to this experience, I didn’t have much awareness of death. I knew that it existed but it didn’t seem like it would happen to me any time soon. It was like a distant relative that I knew I would meet in the future, which was many years away.
My childhood was bad for a variety of reasons. When I was born, I had a defect that made my head look like it was on crooked. Kids made fun of me daily.
When I was nine, the defect was corrected but the scars of the pain remained. To complicate matters even more, I was the first ethnic kid in a neighborhood where racism was rampant.
As a result, I didn’t like going to school. I went through most of my days complaining or lamenting about how miserable things were. When I first got the case of bronchitis that practically killed me, I was happy because it meant that I could stay home from school. (more…)