You know, I’m only used to seeing myself in pictures or from the front in a mirror, and both of those look flat.
But all of a sudden there I—or my body—was and I could see it.
I could definitely see it, full view, from about five feet away. It took me a few moments to recognize myself.
In one account, this feeling of unfamiliarity took a rather extreme and humorous form.
One man, a physician, tells how during his clinical “death” he was beside the bed looking at his own cadaver,
which by then had turned the ash gray color assumed by bodies after death.
Desperate and confused, he was trying to decide what to do.
He tentatively decided just to go away, as he was feeling very uneasy.
As a youngster he had been told ghost stories by his grandfather and, paradoxically,
he “didn’t like being around this thing that looked like a dead body—even if it was me!”
At the other extreme, some have told me that they had no particular feelings at all toward their bodies.
One woman, for example, had a heart attack and felt certain she was dying.
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