Here is a personal essay I wrote on my "near death" experience.
“Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breath out. Breathe in…” Words so brilliantly said by the band Bush. Those words are what helped me get through a scary point in my life. Pain that seemed to never subside and grow with each and every passing second. I could feel my life passing away and I cried.
One day I was fine, I was normal. The only thing was that I was completely exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before. I went to my class fieldtrip and managed not to pass out. Once my friend dropped me off at my house, I decided I was going to take a nap before I went with my sister to a meeting. My eyes closed for the rest of the night. I barely remember telling my sister to leave without me. All I knew was that, the next morning I felt as if I were paralyzed.
The room was sweltering and my head was throbbing. I slowly sat up, and I felt as if I was on one of those spinning carnival rides or something like that. I had no energy in me to really move, and I could not see straight. I could not lie down because the pain would mount in my head, and if I stood up, the world around me danced in a circle. I could feel the pain in my stomach rising. I breathed in, breathed out and managed to take in some cool water while I was at it. The pain grew as my stomach twisted, and my head pounded inside my skull. The pain became a scorching burst of vomit rushing up my throat. I stumbled quickly to the bathroom toilet and let it all erupt. My stomach was furious with me for some reason, and when the hot lava of vomit finished, my stomach kept pushing me to push something out, but there was nothing. It would not end until one last but of saliva or vomit came out. I gasped for as much air as I could, and I prayed for who ever would listen to make the hell go away. Crawling back to the hot coals that I called a bed, I breathed in, breathed out.
The pit that is my stomach did not agree with me; It made me feel as if I were going to throw up all that it held. My head was pounding like a constant drumbeat. Sleep was begging me to give in and let it take hold. A wobbly trip to the bathroom became a constant in my daily and nightly routine. How I managed to get what sleep I did I have no idea. I was awake for most of the night because my head thundered so loudly it made my ears have a constant ringing.
Looking in the mirror at a ghostly sight of myself made me scared. I have always had a light complexion, but what I saw in the mirror was not who I was at all. I was pale and thinner than I once was. Too weak to move, I dragged myself to bed and I cried. I cried and cried and wondered what was wrong with me. I made up my mind that I was dying in one way or another, and I cried harder because I was not ready to die. I still had so much to live for. The fear of death has always been a phobia of mine, and I was terrified of what I thought was death coming towards me. During a trip to the toilet I cried and said, “Please… Make it stop… Please… I don’t want to feel this anymore.” Sick of it all, I told my mother to take me to the hospital. I sat in the emergency room for seven hours and I was given a bed to lie on with an IV in my hand. The room was cold, and it was hard to relax when so many people around me were suffering. After talking to the Registered Nurse-Practitioner, he informed me that I was going through migraines.
I never knew migraines could put someone through so much pain and for so long. My near-death experience was not near-death at all. Although I certainly felt as if I were dying, I had no other information at the time to prove me wrong. I still fear death because I do not want to let go of so many things that I hold dear to my heart in this world. Though I suffered through that time, I am somewhat glad I went through it because I became aware of what meant the most to me in life, and that realization got me to go out and experience things for myself and not to stay at home. I learned to finally live.
