<!-- Star
 

The story is about an event in my life that occurred in the spring of 1979 when I was nineteen years old. I have an extremely interesting story to share with you. I was a kid in the sixties. To give you an idea about my age, I caught the tail end of the baby boomer generation. Im married and have four wonderful children. I live in Metro Detroit. Hi! I'm David.

 

My wife will tell you that this isn't something I'm capable of making up. I admit it all sounds on the far out side but I assure you that it happened and I wouldn't be telling it if it were not the truth. Besides, I had a tough time accepting the whole experience myself. I feel I would be overstepping my bounds if I told you what to choose to believe! I don't have the option to not believe it. As a matter of fact, I envy those who can choose to not believe this story. Well, it is OK if you don't choose to believe me. Yeah, right! you might say. I went on a guided tour of the universe with a spirit friend who told and showed me why I'm here.

 

 

I've been walking around on this planet for the last several decades trying to figure out what the event really means. I feel that now is the right time for me to share this one major event of my life as completely as I possibly can in hope that whomever reads this story will derive some form of benefit from what I am about to share. However, I do have another motive, which is for me to feel better about it. I feel like I've been holding out on everyone for way too long, thinking that I could keep this all to myself. If this story makes a positive difference in one person's life, then my telling of it will be worth every ounce of effort I expend. Besides, there are people who want to know about it.

 

I think I've waited for so long to share due to a few personal issues and a need to mature enough to even begin to understand what happened to me, much less explain why it happened. One fear was I would be labeled as crazy. Another reason was that I trained my subconscious mind to feel I was not mature and evolved enough to be able to even give an accurate account of what happened to me. I've also thought that once I got this story out of me fully, my task here on this planet would be finished and I would return to the great white light again. I now feel that I've overcome those fears and, because of that achievement, what happened to me can now be shared.

 

love them.  An artist named Lilo Kinne sent my story to the Near Death Experiences and the afterlife website that had other folks stories like mine. This he story had 250K hits in its first year, which I believe was pretty viral for the time. I also sent the story as a Christmas present to some of the other interested folks that I had met in the America Online "Metaphysics" chat room. I previously tried to tell the story in the room but it was too long and it always went off topic. Chat rooms... What happened to me has been described several different ways. Near death experience researcher Kevin Williams received the initial version of my experience in 1998 and called it an extremely profound Near Death Experience. He added the short story version of my experience to his Near Death Experiences and the Afterlife web-site (www.near-death.com). Kevin's site is probably the most popular one for the topic. I wrote and sent the short story version to a friend of mine whose son was dying of cancer in order to assist her and her son to deal with any fears they might harbor about him moving out of the physical realm. The woman sent it to Kevin.

 

I frequented chat-rooms quite often back then. I wanted to share the insights from the story and I liked using the shield of anonymity that a screen name provides to protect myself from possible backlash from me trying to tell it. I could be the true me and feel safe because nobody even had to know my name. I could escape any attacks if needed by simply clicking the X.I tended to hang around in the America Online Metaphysics chat-rooms.

 

I enjoyed quite a few years of extremely interesting chat and met many people who helped me to confirm that what happened to me was indeed very real. They helped me think I might want to share the insights of it all with as many people as possible. I've made countless lasting friendships in the rooms and have been greatly inspired by the love my current friends have given me freely. I am still friends with some of them to this day.

 

I attempted to tell my childhood friends about what happened to me immediately after I returned to my physical form, and all of them laughed, saying it all was just a bad drug trip. They said to stop your crazy talk. As young and immature as I was, I was inclined to believe what they said then. I looked like a punk, acted like a punk, and felt like a punk. Who was I to think that I had anything of value to anyone? I eventually met my wife and she made me get rid of those friends first thing. Wives...Thanks honey. I didn't understand about those guys back then, now I do. I love you forever.

 

People who believe in some of the more traditional religious doctrines might classify what happened to me as a consort with the devil himself. A psychiatrist would likely classify it as a lucid dream or maybe a form of schizophrenia. A person knowledgeable in the metaphysical arena would call what happened to me a great gift. I could continue to speculate as to what actually happened, but I don't see what more speculation on my part would accomplish. I must say that regardless of how this happened to me, it does make for a very interesting story that is well worth the read.

 

I prefer not to place any sort of label on the experience. I will tell what happened to me from my own heart and memory. I extend to you an opportunity to decide for yourself what you think the experience was and what you wish to accept from it. Regardless of what labels you may or may not find appropriate, the story is (in my humble opinion) pretty awesome and I feel honored to finally be mature and confident enough to tell it.

 

Even if you do not feel that the afterlife is real, this story might make for a nice afternoon or so of escape from this business of life. I know it has colored my life in both positive and negative ways and helped me in my growth. I pray it will assist you in your growth. I do care about you deeply and if my sharing will assist you in a positive way, I will feel extremely proud!

 

can I tell you when you will meet the love of your life. This story is not something that God himself helped me or told me to write. I am not trying to sell you a lifestyle or a religion or tell you what is wrong or right. I ask and require nothing of you, as I would hope that you would with me. life, nor am I a psychic who can see the future or communicate with the dead. I won't tell you who you were in a past life.

 

I was only 19 years old when this happened. I certainly didn't expect or ask for it to happen and was extremely surprised when it did. Since it happened I have denied it, resented it, and even tried really, really hard to forget the entire thing ever happened. I will explain why later. Perhaps I remember because I am supposed to share the story.

 

I guess I had to grow up quite a bit before I could understand what I saw and felt in my experience. I needed to grow more in order to have enough confidence to feel that people would be interested in this story.

 

I denied the experience right after it happened because it was an additional entree to add to the already full plate I lugged around from my upbringing. I had enough to deal with already from my childhood alone. The experience was way too heavy for me to take on back then and I felt I wasn't ready to process it. Rather than try to process it, I thought I would be better off forgetting it ever happened. Besides, who would believe me anyway? I was just a ghetto loser who most would think to be the "scum" of the earth. I resented the experience because no matter how I hard I tried to forget, or even understand it, it never went away.

 

You see, by 1979, I was the proverbial basket case. My self-esteem was nearly nonexistent. I could elaborate here and provide reasons for my condition, but I'll save that for later as well. I will only say that my childhood has been extremely interesting to the therapists I have seen over the years. I've suffered from bipolar disorder, attention deficit disorder, and alcoholism for most of my life, conditions that never completely go away.

 

I developed an extremely nasty addiction to mood altering substances and alcohol. I made it a point to use those substances as often as possible in an attempt to escape feelings that I just wasn't equipped with to cope with back then. The substances provided a relatively simple, effective, and notoriously reliable means for me to avoid facing these feelings. I could get hammered and then feel good about myself. Drugs and alcohol were an easy solution, and they worked for me a long time.

 

I eventually progressed to the point where I wanted to get far from the urban neighborhood I grew up in. I wanted to be away from the negative influences that had been the key to me becoming the person I was back then. I think my decision to leave Michigan must have come from a small part of me that was immune to the external influences I had allowed to bring me down the good in me.

 

The tiny voice in me grew and matured, increasing in strength and volume despite any efforts on my part to deny it or kill it. My inner self was calling to me, telling me to run away and save myself from the "me" that my mind had been conditioned to tell me I was. I felt this particular voice calling me from my heart. It was the love inside of me, wanting desperately to come out and be free of the prison I kept it in.

 

I wanted to feel that happiness too. I refused to believe I was incapable of it. I believed that if I prepared myself properly, I could find a place that would be better for me. Then I'd have a chance to save myself from myself. I wanted to go out west and ride my bike there. I lost my drivers license for 2 years by being wild with this car I had. I figured I'd get another license and a car when I found my place in another state. I wanted to go out west.happy,and I had planned nearly a year in advance to leave Michigan, to go out into the world in an attempt to find out why in the world I had to be on this planet in the first place. I also wanted to see how other people lived. I saw other people in the world that seemed

 

I saved nearly $2000 and prepared myself mentally to sever the remaining ties to my childhood home and family to go out into the world on my own to find my purpose. I felt I needed to find a place that would allow me to clean up my act. I saved the money to make sure I would physically survive long enough to find a place somewhere that might provide me the opportunity to experience the peace I needed to experience. I felt that the peace was somewhere out there, waiting ever so patiently for me to arrive.

 

I even needed to learn to trust myself! I was ready to go, and I yearned to go. My heart was screaming at me to go, so loudly I couldn't ignore it. It was saying: RUN! I even felt in my heart confidence enough to believe that I would accomplish what I was choosing to do, which truly amazed me! Self-confidence was one of the things I had not grown or really felt in my life so far. I was intent on going off and being alone, making my way to wherever my heart would lead me. I was all fired up and ready to go!

 

The day before I planned to leave I decided I would throw one last party for my friends since I didn't ever plan on seeing them again. Like most young people, my friends were of the utmost importance to me. I felt an obligation to ensure I showed compassion for them. It seemed that even when I screwed up around them, when the next day dawned, I would see them again and the slate would be clean. It was like we were brothers. I could talk to them too. They might not agree with what I had to say to them, but at least they listened to me. They came from similar backgrounds as me and had many of the same problems I had, so they understood me more than anyone else I knew.

 

The best way I really knew to show my friends how much I cared for them was to give them a good party. Partying was what we always did. Usually at parties we were happy and had a tone of freedom to do whatever we wanted, without harming others in the process.

 

 

It was at that very party I had what I prefer to call My Experience.

 

 

 

Next