These NDE accounts were submitted to our website and are published here anonymously. Minor edits have been made to protect the identity of the experiencer and others who may have been involved with the experience. Note to researchers and authors: IANDS cannot grant permission to publish quotations from these NDE accounts because we have not received permission from the NDE authors to do so. However, we advise authors who wish to use quotations from these accounts to follow the Fair Use Doctrine. See our Copyright Policy for more information. We recommend adopting this practice for quotations from our web site before you have written your book or article.
July 26th, 2019 dawned with the promise of a perfect summer day. The sun hung high in the sky, casting its brilliant rays over the coastline, as if nature itself conspired to create a memorable experience. That day, I decided to head to the beach with two of my dearest friends, Sarah and Michael. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and we couldn't wait to revel in the simple joys of sand, surf, and sun.
I died when I was a boy of 8, when I fell and hit my head on an end table next to my bed. I saw a being in a burgundy robe and then I fell asleep, but I never forgot him.
I was 10 years old and next in line to inhale the helium balloon. I was very excited to have my voice screech at an unusually high pitch. When I started to inhale the helium, I passed out cold. The helium had blocked the oxygen supply to my brain, and in a matter of moments, I was on the ground hacking uncontrollably for about a minute or so.
At the age of 15, my stepfather moved our family to a new state far from the friends, life, and boyfriend I loved. I hated our new city, and my parents’ ever-increasing fighting was tearing apart the family. I was an angry isolated teenager with no friends and poor coping skills. My family was Christian, but I remained agnostic because I figured if God existed, he must be either punitive or indifferent to allow so much misery to happen in the world. I wanted nothing to do with him.
I was in rehab in California for my mental health issues. I had issues regulating my emotions and a hospital in Wyoming recommended me to a treatment center in California. I got really depressed there and I went into the staff room, and the black tool cabinet they had in the garage where they kept all the meds happened to be unlocked that day. I went in and grabbed a knife to try to kill myself. That didn't work so I took a whole bottle of my own Tegretol. I called the police because I regretted it and it really was just a cry for help. I didn't really want to die.
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