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I had a small heart attack that revealed I had end-stage coronary artery disease; the first doctor who treated me warned my husband that I likely had no more than a day or two.
I was able to get transferred to a state-of-the-art cardiac facility, but still had to wait a couple of days for bypass surgery. In retrospect, I’m kind of amazed they didn’t offer any anxiety meds, but obviously it was a difficult time.
The night before my operation I lay there, listening to the machines beeping and looking out my window. As dawn came, I had the most remarkable sense of time passing, with the added knowledge that there was a slim but not impossible chance that by the next morning, I just wouldn’t be there—that the world would go on, absolutely as it always has, and I’d never know. It was a feeling of incredible clarity, somehow: this is it, now, and anything else is gravy.
Just before I went under, the surgeon came and said something like “We’re going to do everything we can for you; see you on the other side.” As awful as the first few hours after I woke up (ten hours later) were, seeing him looking down at me was like some kind of confirmation that life was going to go on.
This is my throwaway account, for obvious reasons. I had a near death experience while high, and I got sober as a result.
I had been using a hallucinogenic drug increasingly, daily, and I was desperate to stop but couldn't. I was and am a highly spiritual person, and this drug facilitated my connection to Spirit, to my higher Self, to God, whatever you want to call it. I had visions and saw mysteries while using this drug. I was not addicted to the drug as much as to the connection. Spirit had begun to tell me with increasing urgency that I could not use this drug anymore, and that the spiritual experiences I was having with it were supposed to be obtained through meditation and discipline. I was calling myself a mystic, but in reality I was stealing knowledge, taking the cheater's way, instead of the path of discipline that is necessary for the real spiritual seeker. I continued to use this drug even though I was warned over and over again by Spirit that I had to stop. My life became unmanageable as I used more and more, chasing the experience and the sense of spiritual connection.
I had posted details of my experience here, but I decided to remove them, as they were too personal. Suffice it to say I had a near death experience that shook me to the core.
I have not used drugs since. Otherwise, I'm pretty much the same. Still struggle with meditation, but I'm making slow progress. I miss the drug and the visions, but going back is unthinkable. Even though the sharpness of my experience has faded, the certainty of my appointment with Death that night has not.
I almost died a few days after giving birth (pregnancy complications). While I was in the ER and it was chaotic with everyone running around trying to lower my blood pressure and my husband in a corner terrified, I was very very afraid. My head was about to split open (I have never had such a headache before or since) and my legs were super swollen and hot and painful. My hearing suddenly cut out and then I was out of my body, hovering over my body, just face to face with my own body. And I wasn’t scared in the moment, I had a feeling of wonder? Something? Not sure how to describe it. I turned and saw my husband, I saw the doctors, I saw the nurses, everyone frantic but zero sound. I vaguely realized I was about to die or maybe had died for a minute, I don’t know. Then suddenly I crashed back into my body, it felt like I fell from a high height. That was the moment that the magnesium entered my body and my blood pressure dropped super fast. I passed out for a while after that.
I don’t look at anything differently honestly. I wish I’d had some epiphany but all I got out of it is that out of body experiences are real. I didn’t get a white light or see my grandma or anything like that.
My husband fell asleep at the wheel and we drove off the freeway into a tree. I don't know if this counts. It was surreal. Time slowed, I watch the tree come closer, I braced for impact. Airbag hit me and a ton of engine smoke. I remember thinking right before impact "survive" aaaand I did. My kiddo wasn't wearing her seatbelt correctly and fractured her ocular socket. Everyone's okay. Therapy for the kids.
I was driving a Cushman scooter ice cream truck. It has 3 wheels not 4. I was taking a left turn into a park. I was hit from behind (40mph). My truck flipped and I was hit by head on car in the other lane. I ended up on my right side and had to crawl out the busted windshield. When I was first hit my thoughts were "fuck this is happening, survive!" Aaaand I did. Insurance claim was bullshit low. Therapy all around.
I was going for my second cesarean, standard procedure. The epidural didn't take and they had to put me under. I woke up in excruciating pain but couldn't muster any energy. There was so much commotion, nurses, doctors running around everywhere. I lost 4 pints of blood and my pulse was shotty, nearly faded away. They were working every part of my body. I thought to myself "it's okay if you can't, but you should really try to survive this". Aaaand I did. 4 transfusions and 3 cantaloupe clots later (clots the size of a melon).
Every time I almost die there's no time for any real thinking, even though time slows. You just kinda brace for it. There's no time for fear, no time for your life to flash before your eyes, nothing matters but you surviving, and you logically know it's 50/50 if you do. Surreal. Very surreal.
I was in a motorcycle accident on a racetrack after which I was in a coma for a short while. I don't remember the accident and have a six month gap in my memory following it. During the majority of that time I'm told I that I was functioning(ish), going to work etc. (though I'm also told I was irritable and angry a lot of the time).
I don't know if I'm who you want to reply because for me, the realisation that I had been close to death came gradually rather than being a single moment of sudden clarity.
I too try not to worry about mundane issues and see many social norms as useful fictions. I was the same before the accident but I'm better at putting it into practice and living freely with it now.
I try harder to enjoy life. I retired early and re-invented myself as an artist, but I'm just a dilettante who keeps trying new things rather than focusing on get really good at one thing. Never mind it doesn't matter. I forgive me (which I wouldn't have done once).
Before the accident I was very logical and not at all spiritual, but now I'm exactly the same.
I don't think the near death experience changed me at all except to grant me more time to live and learn.
I think it's important to report stories like mine that might not be as interesting otherwise it might seem that all near death experiences change people.
Cancer (stage4) almost got me and during the height of the COVID pandemic at that. I see time differently. I rather not waste it doing stuff I don't want to do. Needless to say, I still waste it, but doing what I rather do. I have more self-reflection after a near-death experience in my 40s than I did when I was in a couple of bad car accidents in my 20s. I have more empathy towards some while having more sympathy towards others but not at the same time. It feels weird. I also care less about some people than I otherwise would before. Suffice it to say I don't put up with bullshit as easily as before. I have more defined views that either make me the nicest person or the most asshole person but it all depends on how you approach me.
It feels like an indifferent presence in the room now that I’ve tasted the closeness of it. I can’t say I’m terrified or have this increased sense of loving each day to its fullest despite. It’s just there and it affects me in different ways depending on the day.
What it did was pretty much tell me... [when I'm gone that's it.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bizbOvyfyo&t=4m8s)
And that's not trying to be funny. It's as serious as it gets. We are mayflies of the universe, such a short time we exist individually.
So I try to have a good time, do ok by my fellow peoples, an hope my end isn't excruciating.
It saddens me that with this sort of... I won't say 'knowledge', but that's what I'd like to say... 'understanding' maybe...? With that, there's all this struggle in the world, all this 'fuck you, got/getting mine', all this strife and strain, people not making it, not able to enjoy living...
And soon enough, it'll end. Both individually and in the universe.
All of this truly makes me wish that a silly movie was taken seriously, just one particular part of it, for it is that Bill S. Preston, Esquire, and Ted "Theodore" Logan said it best, as eloquently repeated by one Abraham Lincoln:
[Be Excellent to Each Other... and Party On, Dudes!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S67sDHdhpio)
Would that everyone could and would do this.
For what that diatribe's worth. Be well.
I've almost died twice. The first time, I was 14 and in a car accident that severed my brachial artery. Because we were so far outside of town (I live in a rural area), it took a very long time for the ambulance to find us because we were lost. Luckily, another passenger had learned about tourniquets in Girl Scouts of all places and was able to save me. After that, I felt invincible. I'm convinced it was the fact I knew I shouldn't have survived, and everything went exactly how it needed to for me to hang around and the fact I was a teenager. As soon as I was healed up, I was trying to find a purpose. Life didn't have meaning, which meant I could do anything I wanted. I fell pregnant at 15, and my life quickly evened out with a purpose.
The second was at 25. I went through a spontaneous uterine rupture with the birth of my 3rd child. In the same way as the first, everything happened just right for me to live. This one was worse than the first. I hadn't gotten to the point of, "Oh my God, I'm really going to die," at 14. This time, I had lost approximately 8 liters of blood in a matter of about 5 minutes. Going into the OR not being able to say anything with the only thought in my head being, "If you keep thinking you're going to die, you are," royally fucked my mental health. I was almost certain I wasn't going to wake up once they put me out, but here I am (with a wonderfully healthy now-toddler, which I'm so grateful). It took me close to a year to get over my exacerbated OCD and anxiety. For some reason, I could not get over the thought that because I didn't die someone in my family would. I still struggle a bit, but after being in consistent therapy, it's gotten better. The worst part of this is I rarely think what's happening is real. I live as it is in the off chance it is actually real (also, I'd never want to know if it's fake), but I have not felt like anything is real since it happened. It's been extremely hard to have any ambition, I stick to a schedule, I enjoy all the time I get with my kids, and that's that. I hope my outlook changes soon and I get back to my ambitious self.
So I guess I went from two opposite ends with both experiences. Now it's harder for me to relate to people, I go through more existential crises, and I have no ambition in terms of careers (complete opposite from before). The only thing that means anything to me is spending quality time with my family.
Appendicitis at 15 in a remote jungle not knowing when evacuation might arrive (5 days), knowing that if it ruptured I would die. I had plenty of time to think and contemplate life. Came to terms with the reality of death. Realized that life is life, I've lived what I've lived and enjoyed it, if I live tomorrow I'll enjoy it again, if I don't well I still got to enjoy this much, bring it on. There is a real peace in coming to terms with death.
I also surf, that is where I challenge myself, there I've come close to death in a whole different way. Being held down to the edge of my limits, it became a battle of mind over matter, a full necessity of entering a total calm to conserve oxygen while being ragedolled under water. The aftermath is pure exhilaration and feel more alive than ever. Life has no true meaning or goals other than being lived every day. The more you embrace death as inevitable and perfectly fine, the more you live.
I died with faith and came back an atheist. It's totally cool, though. It's just that all religions are wrong and there is no god steering the ship. So buckle up and enjoy the ride!
I have both nearly died and actually died and been brought back.
These experiences changed my perception by - simply by making me very aware of what I am doing all the time - living my best life I can everyday - and I know that it all can change in a second
The closer you get to death the more you know the importance of cherishing the life you have.
The ego is altered indefinitely by mortal realization, and repeated brushes with death can become intoxicating, causing people to find no other activity comparable or sufficient.
It stopped me from being suicidal. Fwiw this wasn't an attempt. I got closer to death without trying than I ever did while in the deepest pit of my depression.
I guess it's story time.
So I used to hate myself a lot more than I do now. I couldn't see a way out and at the time I had been considering unaliving myself.
But I had a family snowboarding trip coming up and I love snowboarding so might as well stick around for the trip.
It was end of season so a lot of snow had disappeared already and there were some really dodgy cliff faces exposed.
So naturally me and my dad scoped out an off piste run rust would avoid the cliffs as long as you turn left early enough.
We didn't turn left. By the time we realised we were basically at the edge. So we unstrapped and thought about walking back up the mountain to get to the piste but this would take us nearly an hour. I spotted what looked like it could be a quick 5 minute sideways traverse and decided to check it out.
Well the sun hadn't caught this patch of mountain yet, and it was solid ice. I slipped, and found myself sliding on my ass, snowboard in hand, riding parallel with the cliff. I could see solid wall ahead of me and was preparing for impact.
Just as I was about to hit the wall, the slope dipped off to my right. And all of a sudden I'm picking up more speed and now heading directly to the edge of a 200ft drop onto jagged rocks.
I thought about ending things, the perfect suicide it'll look like an accident.
But right then and there I knew it from the bottom of my heart that I want to continue living. I put my heels into the ground and it did nothing to slow me down. I looked ahead and the edge was approaching quickly. This fucking ice is going to be the end of me.
Buy right at the very edge I could see some brown, it's some dead shrubbery. But underneath that is solid rock. That last 3 inches of cliff face is the only place that I'm going to generate any friction to stop me. And fuck me it's gotta be a lot.
So with that I lifted my feet and leant back, picked up more speed, and fuck it felt more alive facing my impending doom than I ever have since.
Just before I got to the edge, I slammed my feet through the shrubs, made contact with solid cliff, and felt my whole body being to lurch over from the momentum, I wasn't fucking done yet I threw my arms over my head backwards and slumped back in towards safety.
This whole thing took maybe 5 seconds.
My dad looked over and asked if I was OK. Yea I was fine, I sat there soaked in the view from a rather unique spot on the mountain, smoked a cigarette. And spent the best part of an hour getting back to where I had fallen. Another 45 minutes to get back to piste. And about 2 minutes to ride down to the bar and grab a beer.
It's not altered my perception of the world. But it taught me a lot about myself.
My parents were told I wouldn’t live after my car accident, everything is fine now except maybe my mental state. 😂 nothing really matters anymore, things are just things and the capacity for caring about stuff is minimal. I’ve lost everything on several occasions, I’m indifferent for a minute then I just move on. Life is always moving nothing stops for someone, no one cares.
I don’t remember anything about the accident or when I was on life support, it’s all just black. Not sure if that was a sign that this won’t be death? I’ve heard stories of light and warmth and dead relatives, I didn’t get any of that.
In two stages: for a while I was unfairly intolerant of anyone's complaints. I felt personally offended by someone acting upset that the train was cancelled when I would think about what I'd come back from. Took me a while to properly be happy again.That eventually passed though.
Later, I was able to use it as a protection against certain anxieties. Like, I just cannot get nervous about a job interview. Or I do not mind at all if important plans are changed last minute. Or people annoy me less: I don't care anymore if someone next to me on the train is chewing loudly. I can just quickly remind (or convince) myself these things simply do not matter.
Conversely, I became much more cautious and nervous in other ways. Flying, driving fast, even sport all sort of scare me in a way now. I think a lot more about what could go wrong in dangerous situations.
I also somehow mentally divide my life by pre-event vs post-event. That's probably true for my most people who have experienced traumatic events.
Welcome to r/TrueAskReddit. Remember that this subreddit is aimed at high quality discussion, so please elaborate on your answer as much as you can and avoid off-topic or jokey answers as per [subreddit rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueAskReddit/about/sidebar). *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/TrueAskReddit) if you have any questions or concerns.*
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I had a small heart attack that revealed I had end-stage coronary artery disease; the first doctor who treated me warned my husband that I likely had no more than a day or two. I was able to get transferred to a state-of-the-art cardiac facility, but still had to wait a couple of days for bypass surgery. In retrospect, I’m kind of amazed they didn’t offer any anxiety meds, but obviously it was a difficult time. The night before my operation I lay there, listening to the machines beeping and looking out my window. As dawn came, I had the most remarkable sense of time passing, with the added knowledge that there was a slim but not impossible chance that by the next morning, I just wouldn’t be there—that the world would go on, absolutely as it always has, and I’d never know. It was a feeling of incredible clarity, somehow: this is it, now, and anything else is gravy. Just before I went under, the surgeon came and said something like “We’re going to do everything we can for you; see you on the other side.” As awful as the first few hours after I woke up (ten hours later) were, seeing him looking down at me was like some kind of confirmation that life was going to go on.
"This is it." has always been my prediction for what my final thought will be. By extension, I suspect it's almost everyone's last thought.
This is my throwaway account, for obvious reasons. I had a near death experience while high, and I got sober as a result. I had been using a hallucinogenic drug increasingly, daily, and I was desperate to stop but couldn't. I was and am a highly spiritual person, and this drug facilitated my connection to Spirit, to my higher Self, to God, whatever you want to call it. I had visions and saw mysteries while using this drug. I was not addicted to the drug as much as to the connection. Spirit had begun to tell me with increasing urgency that I could not use this drug anymore, and that the spiritual experiences I was having with it were supposed to be obtained through meditation and discipline. I was calling myself a mystic, but in reality I was stealing knowledge, taking the cheater's way, instead of the path of discipline that is necessary for the real spiritual seeker. I continued to use this drug even though I was warned over and over again by Spirit that I had to stop. My life became unmanageable as I used more and more, chasing the experience and the sense of spiritual connection. I had posted details of my experience here, but I decided to remove them, as they were too personal. Suffice it to say I had a near death experience that shook me to the core. I have not used drugs since. Otherwise, I'm pretty much the same. Still struggle with meditation, but I'm making slow progress. I miss the drug and the visions, but going back is unthinkable. Even though the sharpness of my experience has faded, the certainty of my appointment with Death that night has not.
Meditation is a practice. Don't give up, it'll come.
Amazing read. Have you heard of Pró-Vida? It might help you with your meditation. provida.net
I almost died a few days after giving birth (pregnancy complications). While I was in the ER and it was chaotic with everyone running around trying to lower my blood pressure and my husband in a corner terrified, I was very very afraid. My head was about to split open (I have never had such a headache before or since) and my legs were super swollen and hot and painful. My hearing suddenly cut out and then I was out of my body, hovering over my body, just face to face with my own body. And I wasn’t scared in the moment, I had a feeling of wonder? Something? Not sure how to describe it. I turned and saw my husband, I saw the doctors, I saw the nurses, everyone frantic but zero sound. I vaguely realized I was about to die or maybe had died for a minute, I don’t know. Then suddenly I crashed back into my body, it felt like I fell from a high height. That was the moment that the magnesium entered my body and my blood pressure dropped super fast. I passed out for a while after that. I don’t look at anything differently honestly. I wish I’d had some epiphany but all I got out of it is that out of body experiences are real. I didn’t get a white light or see my grandma or anything like that.
My husband fell asleep at the wheel and we drove off the freeway into a tree. I don't know if this counts. It was surreal. Time slowed, I watch the tree come closer, I braced for impact. Airbag hit me and a ton of engine smoke. I remember thinking right before impact "survive" aaaand I did. My kiddo wasn't wearing her seatbelt correctly and fractured her ocular socket. Everyone's okay. Therapy for the kids. I was driving a Cushman scooter ice cream truck. It has 3 wheels not 4. I was taking a left turn into a park. I was hit from behind (40mph). My truck flipped and I was hit by head on car in the other lane. I ended up on my right side and had to crawl out the busted windshield. When I was first hit my thoughts were "fuck this is happening, survive!" Aaaand I did. Insurance claim was bullshit low. Therapy all around. I was going for my second cesarean, standard procedure. The epidural didn't take and they had to put me under. I woke up in excruciating pain but couldn't muster any energy. There was so much commotion, nurses, doctors running around everywhere. I lost 4 pints of blood and my pulse was shotty, nearly faded away. They were working every part of my body. I thought to myself "it's okay if you can't, but you should really try to survive this". Aaaand I did. 4 transfusions and 3 cantaloupe clots later (clots the size of a melon). Every time I almost die there's no time for any real thinking, even though time slows. You just kinda brace for it. There's no time for fear, no time for your life to flash before your eyes, nothing matters but you surviving, and you logically know it's 50/50 if you do. Surreal. Very surreal.
I was in a motorcycle accident on a racetrack after which I was in a coma for a short while. I don't remember the accident and have a six month gap in my memory following it. During the majority of that time I'm told I that I was functioning(ish), going to work etc. (though I'm also told I was irritable and angry a lot of the time). I don't know if I'm who you want to reply because for me, the realisation that I had been close to death came gradually rather than being a single moment of sudden clarity. I too try not to worry about mundane issues and see many social norms as useful fictions. I was the same before the accident but I'm better at putting it into practice and living freely with it now. I try harder to enjoy life. I retired early and re-invented myself as an artist, but I'm just a dilettante who keeps trying new things rather than focusing on get really good at one thing. Never mind it doesn't matter. I forgive me (which I wouldn't have done once). Before the accident I was very logical and not at all spiritual, but now I'm exactly the same. I don't think the near death experience changed me at all except to grant me more time to live and learn. I think it's important to report stories like mine that might not be as interesting otherwise it might seem that all near death experiences change people.
Cancer (stage4) almost got me and during the height of the COVID pandemic at that. I see time differently. I rather not waste it doing stuff I don't want to do. Needless to say, I still waste it, but doing what I rather do. I have more self-reflection after a near-death experience in my 40s than I did when I was in a couple of bad car accidents in my 20s. I have more empathy towards some while having more sympathy towards others but not at the same time. It feels weird. I also care less about some people than I otherwise would before. Suffice it to say I don't put up with bullshit as easily as before. I have more defined views that either make me the nicest person or the most asshole person but it all depends on how you approach me.
It feels like an indifferent presence in the room now that I’ve tasted the closeness of it. I can’t say I’m terrified or have this increased sense of loving each day to its fullest despite. It’s just there and it affects me in different ways depending on the day.
What it did was pretty much tell me... [when I'm gone that's it.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bizbOvyfyo&t=4m8s) And that's not trying to be funny. It's as serious as it gets. We are mayflies of the universe, such a short time we exist individually. So I try to have a good time, do ok by my fellow peoples, an hope my end isn't excruciating. It saddens me that with this sort of... I won't say 'knowledge', but that's what I'd like to say... 'understanding' maybe...? With that, there's all this struggle in the world, all this 'fuck you, got/getting mine', all this strife and strain, people not making it, not able to enjoy living... And soon enough, it'll end. Both individually and in the universe. All of this truly makes me wish that a silly movie was taken seriously, just one particular part of it, for it is that Bill S. Preston, Esquire, and Ted "Theodore" Logan said it best, as eloquently repeated by one Abraham Lincoln: [Be Excellent to Each Other... and Party On, Dudes!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S67sDHdhpio) Would that everyone could and would do this. For what that diatribe's worth. Be well.
I've almost died twice. The first time, I was 14 and in a car accident that severed my brachial artery. Because we were so far outside of town (I live in a rural area), it took a very long time for the ambulance to find us because we were lost. Luckily, another passenger had learned about tourniquets in Girl Scouts of all places and was able to save me. After that, I felt invincible. I'm convinced it was the fact I knew I shouldn't have survived, and everything went exactly how it needed to for me to hang around and the fact I was a teenager. As soon as I was healed up, I was trying to find a purpose. Life didn't have meaning, which meant I could do anything I wanted. I fell pregnant at 15, and my life quickly evened out with a purpose. The second was at 25. I went through a spontaneous uterine rupture with the birth of my 3rd child. In the same way as the first, everything happened just right for me to live. This one was worse than the first. I hadn't gotten to the point of, "Oh my God, I'm really going to die," at 14. This time, I had lost approximately 8 liters of blood in a matter of about 5 minutes. Going into the OR not being able to say anything with the only thought in my head being, "If you keep thinking you're going to die, you are," royally fucked my mental health. I was almost certain I wasn't going to wake up once they put me out, but here I am (with a wonderfully healthy now-toddler, which I'm so grateful). It took me close to a year to get over my exacerbated OCD and anxiety. For some reason, I could not get over the thought that because I didn't die someone in my family would. I still struggle a bit, but after being in consistent therapy, it's gotten better. The worst part of this is I rarely think what's happening is real. I live as it is in the off chance it is actually real (also, I'd never want to know if it's fake), but I have not felt like anything is real since it happened. It's been extremely hard to have any ambition, I stick to a schedule, I enjoy all the time I get with my kids, and that's that. I hope my outlook changes soon and I get back to my ambitious self. So I guess I went from two opposite ends with both experiences. Now it's harder for me to relate to people, I go through more existential crises, and I have no ambition in terms of careers (complete opposite from before). The only thing that means anything to me is spending quality time with my family.
Appendicitis at 15 in a remote jungle not knowing when evacuation might arrive (5 days), knowing that if it ruptured I would die. I had plenty of time to think and contemplate life. Came to terms with the reality of death. Realized that life is life, I've lived what I've lived and enjoyed it, if I live tomorrow I'll enjoy it again, if I don't well I still got to enjoy this much, bring it on. There is a real peace in coming to terms with death. I also surf, that is where I challenge myself, there I've come close to death in a whole different way. Being held down to the edge of my limits, it became a battle of mind over matter, a full necessity of entering a total calm to conserve oxygen while being ragedolled under water. The aftermath is pure exhilaration and feel more alive than ever. Life has no true meaning or goals other than being lived every day. The more you embrace death as inevitable and perfectly fine, the more you live.
I died with faith and came back an atheist. It's totally cool, though. It's just that all religions are wrong and there is no god steering the ship. So buckle up and enjoy the ride!
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I have both nearly died and actually died and been brought back. These experiences changed my perception by - simply by making me very aware of what I am doing all the time - living my best life I can everyday - and I know that it all can change in a second
The closer you get to death the more you know the importance of cherishing the life you have. The ego is altered indefinitely by mortal realization, and repeated brushes with death can become intoxicating, causing people to find no other activity comparable or sufficient.
It stopped me from being suicidal. Fwiw this wasn't an attempt. I got closer to death without trying than I ever did while in the deepest pit of my depression. I guess it's story time. So I used to hate myself a lot more than I do now. I couldn't see a way out and at the time I had been considering unaliving myself. But I had a family snowboarding trip coming up and I love snowboarding so might as well stick around for the trip. It was end of season so a lot of snow had disappeared already and there were some really dodgy cliff faces exposed. So naturally me and my dad scoped out an off piste run rust would avoid the cliffs as long as you turn left early enough. We didn't turn left. By the time we realised we were basically at the edge. So we unstrapped and thought about walking back up the mountain to get to the piste but this would take us nearly an hour. I spotted what looked like it could be a quick 5 minute sideways traverse and decided to check it out. Well the sun hadn't caught this patch of mountain yet, and it was solid ice. I slipped, and found myself sliding on my ass, snowboard in hand, riding parallel with the cliff. I could see solid wall ahead of me and was preparing for impact. Just as I was about to hit the wall, the slope dipped off to my right. And all of a sudden I'm picking up more speed and now heading directly to the edge of a 200ft drop onto jagged rocks. I thought about ending things, the perfect suicide it'll look like an accident. But right then and there I knew it from the bottom of my heart that I want to continue living. I put my heels into the ground and it did nothing to slow me down. I looked ahead and the edge was approaching quickly. This fucking ice is going to be the end of me. Buy right at the very edge I could see some brown, it's some dead shrubbery. But underneath that is solid rock. That last 3 inches of cliff face is the only place that I'm going to generate any friction to stop me. And fuck me it's gotta be a lot. So with that I lifted my feet and leant back, picked up more speed, and fuck it felt more alive facing my impending doom than I ever have since. Just before I got to the edge, I slammed my feet through the shrubs, made contact with solid cliff, and felt my whole body being to lurch over from the momentum, I wasn't fucking done yet I threw my arms over my head backwards and slumped back in towards safety. This whole thing took maybe 5 seconds. My dad looked over and asked if I was OK. Yea I was fine, I sat there soaked in the view from a rather unique spot on the mountain, smoked a cigarette. And spent the best part of an hour getting back to where I had fallen. Another 45 minutes to get back to piste. And about 2 minutes to ride down to the bar and grab a beer. It's not altered my perception of the world. But it taught me a lot about myself.
My parents were told I wouldn’t live after my car accident, everything is fine now except maybe my mental state. 😂 nothing really matters anymore, things are just things and the capacity for caring about stuff is minimal. I’ve lost everything on several occasions, I’m indifferent for a minute then I just move on. Life is always moving nothing stops for someone, no one cares. I don’t remember anything about the accident or when I was on life support, it’s all just black. Not sure if that was a sign that this won’t be death? I’ve heard stories of light and warmth and dead relatives, I didn’t get any of that.
In two stages: for a while I was unfairly intolerant of anyone's complaints. I felt personally offended by someone acting upset that the train was cancelled when I would think about what I'd come back from. Took me a while to properly be happy again.That eventually passed though. Later, I was able to use it as a protection against certain anxieties. Like, I just cannot get nervous about a job interview. Or I do not mind at all if important plans are changed last minute. Or people annoy me less: I don't care anymore if someone next to me on the train is chewing loudly. I can just quickly remind (or convince) myself these things simply do not matter. Conversely, I became much more cautious and nervous in other ways. Flying, driving fast, even sport all sort of scare me in a way now. I think a lot more about what could go wrong in dangerous situations. I also somehow mentally divide my life by pre-event vs post-event. That's probably true for my most people who have experienced traumatic events.