Hello people. I didn’t die. But these days were very crazy.
On the third day after eating those mushrooms, when I read M LJins message and after making a research, I thought: maybe it was a deadly mushroom, one with amatoxins. The symptoms matched a little too well.
They said that on the third day liver failure began: pain, loss of lucidity, one or two days of agony… and then, death. And that day the diarrhea had almost disappeared. It was the third day.
The whole situation struck me deeply. Is existence really this fragile? One moment I had a future full of projects, and the next I was a stranger doomed to die alone in the middle of nowhere.
I wondered what I should do. Go to the hospital? I didn’t want to die connected to cold lights or surrounded by hurried voices. I preferred to die in the forest, alone, in silence.
Then I asked myself: what would Buddha do in my place? Would he observe his own pain? Was this an opportunity to practice Vipassana?
So I started putting my things in order, calmly. I cleaned the house. I bathed. I arranged my belongings thinking I would never touch them again. I said goodbye to the cats.
I went for a walk in the village. I entered a restaurant that had always seemed ugly to me, almost offensively ugly. But not that day. That day I discovered it was nice. I discovered there is beauty in ugliness. And I felt a deep sadness: I didn’t want to die. I felt I was leaving everything unfinished.
Thousands of thoughts went through my mind like a disordered swarm. Was that the mind approaching death?
And in the end… nothing happened. Nothing.
There was no liver failure, no pain, no final shadows, no agony, no death.
It felt like being reborn. A second breath. Suddenly life was full of opportunities again; there were paths, decisions, futures open.
A few days have passed, and I feel like I’ve returned to my normal self. Once again, ugly places look ugly to me, but I know it’s my perception, not them. Something in me was marked, like a small hidden glimmer in my memory.
It was a good experience. An unexpected teacher. Thank you, friends. I’m still processing what happened, but I think there is much to learn from this experience.
