Now that's an interesting experience.
Or maybe none at all.
Do you remember any of it?
There's a thread about near death experiences, but what interests me here is to know if that experience had any impact on your spirituality.
Yeah. I think so. But not the first time. When I died for three days. I overdosed on heroin. I did a nice normal shot. Then I sniffed half a 1mg alprazolam. I remembered I had done heroin and I thought maybe I should go rinse that out. So I went and I rinsed the alprazolam out of my nose. I went to my bedroom and I went to sleep. My ex girlfriend said I turned blue. She said she breathed for me for like eight hours. And then pumped my chest for another four. Then, she gave up. I stayed their for the next two days. On the third day I rose again. I immediately began looking for my heroin. Desperately searching for my heroine. She was right beside me and my heroin was there too. I grabbed the heroin and like second nature I cooked a shot. I said nothing to my heroine. I sniffed the shot on my back with my head hanging off the bed and my arms out at both sides. When I was dosed up. I sat up on the bed and I went to say something to my heroine. The second I thought the thought it felt like a firework in my brain where the thought was. I paused. I opened my mouth to speak. Again where the thought was there was a pop and then nothing. I said the words « oh my god » without thinking and then I began to weep. I tried five more times until finally I said, « I can’t remember. » and my heroine said, « you remembered your heroin. ». This made me deeply sad as I realized the gravity of what had happened. I no longer had a functioning short term memory. I was fucking angry. I was fucking sad. Whoever I was before was dead and whatever I was now had emerged within the body of whom I had been. But I knew nothing. I could vaguely remember that my name was helping out. That my girlfriends name was heroine. And that my long term memories were mostly intact but that every new thought I had was being zapped out of my head faster than I could speak it. I had nothing. No one. I was no one now. Whomever I was before. They were still with me in a sense. But whatever I was now, was something of their left overs. My brain was permanently altered. I fought over the next six months to try to get my short term memory back. I felt the brain zaps and eventually began to be able to hold 2 things in my head at once. Fought for three. Could barely get four. And five was now impossible. I felt like a husk. Spirituality, something happened when I got to be alive again, but something in me had to die to seal the deal. Whatever deal I made put the life back in my lungs.
« I kneel before you, an altered and a humbled man, and drink within my very soul, thy grandeur, gloom, and glory. »
Flash forward three years. I just overdosed again. Same thing. Accidental benzos and opiates. This time I woke up two days after.
Spiritually, all I can say is either I am a god, and I have not yet been killed in the way this god will die, or god has refused to let me die, or there is no god, I am no god, and nothing explains my resurrection besides the redhead pain killer paradox. We feel more with less but can tolerate much more than others. Perhaps even I did die in many other universes. But was transposed into the universe where I live now. The universe where my heroin could not kill me. In this universe though, where you are reading my message, I rose again, once after three days, and once after two, perhaps I am a human being with three lives, maybe my days are numbered if I do not change. Perhaps I have one day left. But I no longer have my heroine and the heroin is all gone. I have risen indeed.
I do not know why I have been given this life. Or why I continue to exist. Or in what capacity my existence is conditional to. But I am nothing and no one now. My purpose is to discover whom I am without the drugs. I have lived the life of helping out on drugs and I helped no one. Perhaps now that I have risen again I might be able to help others to become free. Maybe this is why the spirit became alive within me.
Maybe I am imagining this life.
But I no longer have a hold on reality, except to live this present moment, but my best thinking says that the old me is gone and he’s never coming back, and the universe seems to have something it’s not letting me die without doing.
