Hello, This is my first post in this section, I have been dealing with PIED for a while now and have only used this forum for those reasons. But now I am deciding to deviate from that topic so here I go. When I was 17, I was involved in the most freak accident I can think of. I was at a birthday party and at some point we all decided to go outside and play 'fugitive' which is basically just a better name for tag. 17 years old playing tag? I know, it already sounds crazy. Well at some point during the game, I ran into one of my other friends and slammed my head on the asphalt. This caused a brain bleed and I was rushed to the hospital where I had brain surgery. After the surgery, I was medically induced into a coma for about 3 weeks. Let me just say that the dreams in the coma and what I felt during that whole ordeal is in-explainable. I have tried psychedelics like shrooms, LSD, tried E and molly, and avidly smoke weed. Not one of those comes close to what I experienced in those dreams. Apparently the hospital I was in was not taking good care of me, so my parents had me transferred to a different, more familiar hospital. Fast forward to the next hospital, I was prepared for another surgery. When I had the initial surgery, a bone flap was removed and placed in my abdomen to keep it alive. Crazy right? Imagine how I felt. So the second surgery was to put that bone flap back. After a successful operation, My recovery process began. I could not walk, talk, or even move with ease. I lost my voice because my vocal chords were affected from the trauma and breathing tube. Walking was impossible, I had to be seated on a wheelchair and had to kick my feet to move. That was nearly impossible, but I pushed through it. Moving any inch of my body without feeling pain or any sensation at all was a problem. I felt like my life was over. Before this, I played water polo in High School and was very active. So to not be able to do any of that was very frustrating and confusing to me. After some time, I was transferred to a rehab center that was connected to the hospital I was in. In rehab I had speech therapy, physical therapy, and occupational therapy everyday. I felt so helpless. Again, I thought my life was over. I was the only person in that center that was as young as I was, so seeing a bunch of old people trying to recover from whatever unfortunate condition they had was pretty scary to me. Thankfully I had youth on my side, and each day was one step closer to recovery. Long story short, I trained my body with the help of my therapists to recover, not fully, but enough to be discharged. I guess the reason I decided to share this story is because almost 6 years later, I am still haunted by this experience. I had much support from both my family and high school friends, so at the time it was not that bad. But now I am reflecting. Am I more anxious because of this? More paranoid? Depressed? I am not sure. I guess now I am trying to find myself and find my point and purpose in this life. Being so close to death I sometimes wonder what death is truly like. There is something peaceful about the thought of a coma. If you read this far I appreciate you. I don't know what kind of responses I am looking for, but there is my story.