Near-Death Stories

 

Liam’s Story

In October of 2017, I started getting sick. I was 12 years old and in 7th grade. My illness started slow, first with headaches, then I started to feel queasy most of the time—it became so horrible that as soon as I woke up I felt dizzy and nauseous. This made it a struggle to even make it to the shower. When I did make it up and out of the door, the nausea and dizziness made learning at school impossible. I felt like the weird kid in school; always having to leave class; wearing hats to shade my eyes from the light. Friends started to pity me. They felt bad that I was out of class and sick. I wasn’t able to do the things they were anymore because I felt ill. Often stuck in the health room, my problem were compounded—I felt ashamed about not being able to keep up with everyone around me.

The health room transitioned into emergency room, urgent care and lots of different specialists. They were like a second home. These doctors prescribed nightmarish medication that seemed to make my symptoms worse including; burning sensations, throat swelling, anxiety, and overwhelming lethargy. At their worst, my migraines were unbearable, even with the medication. I slept nearly all day in an attempt to avoid the excruciating pain, but when I woke up my headaches would take over. Life was a living hell.

I thought about death, not as an escape, but as a realistic solution. It would be better if I were dead, I rationalized. If I died, there wouldn’t be any more medical bills for my mother to pay with money we didn’t have (my father pays little to no child support and her job doesn’t pay her very much). I wouldn’t have any more pain. My mom wouldn’t be under all the strain and pressure with the stress of my mystery illness. I wouldn’t have to burden anyone anymore. I wouldn’t have anyone worrying about me. I was realistic and practical about the option of dying. I wasn’t sad about it. Although, I really wanted a reason to live. 

A couple months after the migraines had started, I had an intense moment that changed my life. The following is what happened to me, I can’t say for sure what it was but I know that it was real. 

In late November I had one of the worst days of my life, I was lying in bed as usual, my pain was excruciating, I wished I were dead. Immediately I was somehow out of myself, looking at my body form above. I was lying in the fetal position beneath me, just like I had been on my bed. I was floating in my room. I saw my room exactly as I left it when I fell asleep, only I was hovering now. I looked at my bed, dresser, and mini-basketball hoop. I felt very light and free from pain, I wasn’t scared. My room was so bright there were no shadows anywhere in my room, I felt comfortable for the first time in months. 

I was suddenly at school, in my language arts class, Mrs. Cooper was giving a lesson and all of the students in my class were standing up in a line in the back of the room. Mrs. Cooper was at her desk, where she usually was. Everything was normal except I could see that everybody had a light shining behind and above them. Everything else was pretty much the same, some people were brighter; the tallest kid in class, Holt had a white and yellow light beaming from the back of his head and my friend, Tara was the brightest. The light was going out like a glare—it was like a sun was shining behind each of them. 

I was so excited to see my friends but when I talked to them, nobody could hear me. It seemed like they were all upset, as if they were mourning. They were all upset about something. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t communicate with them, I yelled at them, but no one even turned around. It was so difficult. It occurred to me that I had died because I felt like I was dead. Maybe that was what my friends were mourning. It felt like I was honestly, just gone. 

Then there was a big flash of light that blinded me—the only thing I could see was a man.  A very, very tall man with long golden hair, no facial hair.  He was wearing all white clothing. Somehow I sensed he was an authoritative figure, but kind and loving. The nice man said that someone died and that’s why Mrs. Cooper’s class was mourning. I knew it was me. I knew I had died. 

This was the most heartbreaking moment of my life. I realized that everyone would be upset if I were dead. Everyone was going to be so sad that I was gone and the pain of that realization hurt me deeply. The idea that the people I love so much were crying because of me was unbearable, even worse than my incessant migraines.

I sensed I was disappearing, fading away.

A feeling of dread washed over me and I yelled out to the figure in white in desperation, “I don’t want to die.”  


When I said that I didn’t want to die, I stopped fading away. I felt whole again.


Suddenly, I was back in my room, in my sick body looking at my ceiling. I saw my bed, dresser, and mini-basketball hoop exactly how it was in my experience.

My mother decided to do some work on our house, after removing the flooring we discovered large dark patches spanning the length of our home—it was black mold. Our contractor advised us to leave the house as quickly as possible as it was extremely toxic. We took his advice. 

My mother, my sister and I found a hotel were we could stay for several months. There were many nights of arguing about whose turn it was to sleep on the floor because we didn’t have enough beds. There was nothing we could do about this situation, we were unable to return to our home because no one would fix our house. But despite our tight quarters, for the first time in almost a year, I started to feel better! No searing pain, no lethargy, no nausea and dizziness and best of all … no wishing I would just die. We were homeless but at least were were healing, my mother was relieved that I was getting better since we were out of that poisoned house. Now I can focus on my studies and play sports again, I hope some day soon my mother, sister and I will have a home.

 Liam, age 15