I. Introduction

In previous discussions, I shared the background of my Near-Death Experience (NDE) and the transformative insights it provided regarding success and intuition.

II. The Process of Dying

My demise was gradual.

I didn’t experience a car crash, a heart attack, or a sudden collapse. Instead, at 29, I contracted a mild case of COVID that severely impacted my already delicate digestive system. Over the course of 65 days, I transitioned from a healthy 138-pound man to a frail 105-pound shell of my former self.

This situation was not anyone's fault; I simply couldn't eat, and no intervention could change that.

By January 2021, the healthcare system was still overwhelmed due to the pandemic, and despite my efforts, I received no assistance from doctors or emergency rooms. As time passed, I accepted the grim reality that I might not survive.

III. An Unconventional Encounter with Light

It may sound cliché, but I did see a light—though it wasn’t Jesus, unfortunately.

As I continued my daily routines, a sense of acceptance enveloped me, allowing me to cherish time spent with my family. In early May, I reduced my work commitments and began using a cane for support. My wife walked beside me, holding my hand tightly as I occasionally laid down to rest.

One early morning, after a restless night, I awoke feeling extremely unwell and had a seizure. I’ll spare you the details, but later that day, I found myself drifting in and out of consciousness in a hospital bed, burdened by excruciating pain as my marrow began to fail.

During this time, I experienced visions of people and places that weren’t there and conversed with individuals I had never met. One of the most significant moments was when I encountered a brilliant white light.

> "Are you afraid?" it resonated, and in that instant, I felt as if I were without a body. > > "Yes," I admitted. > > "Are you afraid to die?" it inquired. > > "No, I'm afraid to leave my loved ones behind," I confessed. > > "Do you wish to stay?" it asked, "This will be quite challenging." > > "I’ll do what I must; I’m ready," I replied.

That was the essence of our exchange. Following that encounter, I became more determined to take charge of my health, marking the beginning of my journey as a medical advocate.

IV. Unmasking Fear

Fear lurks beneath the surface, subtly poisoning our lives. It’s not a monster but rather a silent troll.

Fear communicates through what we consistently avoid without reason. It whispers through unspoken words, drowning them in silence, rendering them unreachable. It holds our freedom hostage, lurking in the shadows, confident that we won’t confront it with the simple question: "Why?"

In the American healthcare system, there are three types of care: care that is available, care that is inappropriate, and care that could help but requires a struggle to obtain.

Often, the unavailable yet beneficial care is entangled in bureaucratic obstacles. From my perspective, many doctors are too preoccupied to consider it, fixated on one-track thinking, or dismissive of patient feedback. To access this elusive care, one must become an advocate.

As someone who has struggled with people-pleasing, I spent much of my life avoiding conflict out of fear of instability. However, having faced my mortality, I realized I wouldn’t accept a life devoid of quality if I could help it.

Perhaps that’s what the "white light" meant when it said, "It won’t be easy."

While I don’t rely on disembodied voices for guidance, I acknowledge our history together. It could have been a product of my subconscious during a morphine-induced haze—who knows?

Regardless, that voice proved accurate. As I battled my health issues, I feared that my life—and the lives of my family—would spiral downward. Confronting those fears revealed something about myself I had yet to embrace: I am resilient.

V. The Revelation of True Self

Have you ever faced a significant fear or obstacle only to discover something profound about yourself?

I’ve learned that there are few challenges I can’t tackle creatively. I also underestimated the support of my network of friends and family, who rallied around us during this tumultuous period.

When it came to advocating for my medical needs, I discovered that I didn’t have to shoulder the burden alone. Much of my fear stemmed from the notion that I had to be the hero, managing every hurdle independently and ensuring that failure was not an option.

That was the lurking troll speaking, and I had finally confronted it.

VI. A Metaphorical Shift: Dragons and Snakes

While dragons symbolize strength and magic, I recognized the wisdom of the snake I had long feared. It taught me to navigate the darkness and face uncertainties against overwhelming odds.

I enjoy personifying concepts; sue me.

As I began shedding my old skin, it was both frightening and liberating. I broke my silence about my illness, which I had kept hidden, and challenged the failing medical system that jeopardized my life. I communicated my needs with my family and started navigating the myriad changes in our daily lives together. I also allowed myself to feel once more.

The fears surrounding failure, death, conflict, and disappointing others paled in comparison to the overwhelming dread I felt about my own emotions. They surged like a violent storm, and three months post-hospitalization, I was engulfed in grief.

It felt like a setback.

My medical team seemed to abandon me, and I struggled to nourish myself, even with a feeding tube. I relied on assistive devices to move around, and I had to relocate to a quieter space to recuperate. My body was so depleted that I could hardly think clearly.

I cried frequently, crushed under the weight of it all.

VII. The Healing Power of Writing

This was when I turned back to writing. It became a lifeline, helping me remember who I am and how to transform my experiences into something positive. Writing provided perspective and facilitated my inner processing in a way nothing else could.

In our minds, thoughts can echo through distorted reflections, but on paper, honesty becomes easier. My therapist advised me, "Do something every day that gives you purpose." So, I confronted my fears. I faced madness, death, and loss with small, deliberate steps, which sparked a shift in my life.

VIII. Unveiling the Authentic Self

My earliest school presentations left me a sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the fear of judgment. Today, I’ve learned to accept myself despite my physical challenges, awkward looks, and skeptical doctors. This experience didn’t shatter my spirit; instead, it revealed my true self.

Fear can guide us, inform us, and present us with choices. Ignorant individuals may not experience fear, but it can cause intelligent people to act irrationally—just observe behavior during crises.

The key is to acknowledge fear, engage with it, and confront it directly.

We should challenge our fears with tough questions. Fear does not possess all the answers; it operates on a loop.

Let your fear unveil your true essence, and those burdens you’ve carried for too long can finally cease to define you.

My narrative is ongoing; I’m still crafting it daily. I’ve grown less fearful, even amid uncertainties.

If there’s a message in my journey, it’s this: Take those small steps. Confront your fears, break free from their grasp, and embrace the authentic you.