The Unseen Weight: How a Person’s Energy Impacts a Near-Death Experiencer
NDEr Opinion Piece
After my near-death experience, I came back changed.
Not just spiritually awakened, but radically sensitised. I could feel things—deeply, acutely, undeniably. I could walk into a room and know what wasn’t being said. I could sense intention before words were spoken. I could feel the energy others carried, and when that energy was heavy, unresolved, or hostile, it would enter me like smoke, clinging to my skin, my nervous system, and even my dreams.
Some people brought calm with them. Others, unknowingly, brought chaos.
And then there was him—my friend’s partner.
The Unwelcome Frequency
He never said anything overtly cruel. Rarely did he express his opinions directly. But his energy didn’t need words to be felt. The moment he walked through my door, the air changed. There was a kind of electric hostility—subtle but sharp, passive but penetrating. I’d feel his jealousy before I’d see it in his eyes. I’d feel his judgment before he’d even glanced at me.
Sometimes he would compliment me in a tone laced with barbs.
Other times he would sit in silence, eyes scanning, smile brittle.
Even when he laughed, it never reached his body.
And because I’d had an NDE, I couldn’t not feel it.
What others might have dismissed as social awkwardness or moodiness, I experienced as full-body unease. My gut would tighten. My heart would race. My skin would prickle. The peace I fought so hard to maintain post-NDE would evaporate the moment he entered the room.
The Pain of Disbelief
When I tried to share what I was feeling with my friend, she shrugged it off. “He doesn’t mean anything by it.” “That’s just his humour.”
But I knew better.
I knew what unspoken resentment feels like in a room. I knew the energetic residue of comparison, competition, territorial insecurity. And I knew that the frequency he brought wasn’t just unpleasant—it was harmful.
After an NDE, the body and soul become exquisitely attuned to frequency. Anything that is unkind, inauthentic, or energetically distorted feels amplified—sometimes unbearably so. It’s not just emotional discomfort. It’s energetic violation.
I would spend days after a visit with him feeling drained, anxious, and unsettled. My sleep would be fractured. My intuition would go into overdrive. I would start doubting myself, my voice, my body.
Because that’s what this kind of energy does—it gets inside you and muddies the truth.
The Inner Conflict
I questioned myself constantly. Was I being too sensitive? Was I imagining it? Was I projecting?
These are the questions highly intuitive people are taught to ask ourselves in order to make others more comfortable. Especially those who return from spiritual awakenings. We are told, in thousands of subtle ways, that our perception makes others uncomfortable—and that discomfort becomes our responsibility to fix.
But it isn’t.
I wasn’t imagining it. I was just finally listening.
After my NDE, I no longer had the luxury of ignoring what I sensed. My body had become an instrument of knowing. My intuition wasn’t fragile. It was precise.
And it told me: this person’s energy is not safe for you.
Energy Is a Language
In the post-NDE state, energy is not symbolic—it is literal. It’s not just “vibes” or “intuition”—it is a language, as clear and tangible as words on a page. Someone else’s unresolved wounds, their envy, their bitterness or need to dominate—these things are no longer hidden to those who return with the veil torn open.
We feel them.
And they can harm us.
Not because we’re weak—but because we’re open.
Because our nervous systems have been rewired to operate on a subtler, more honest frequency.
And when someone enters our space carrying projection, denial, manipulation or suppressed hostility, it enters us too—unless we’re ruthlessly discerning.
Reclaiming Peace
Eventually, I made the hard choice to stop welcoming him into my home. I pulled back. I didn’t explain. I didn’t justify. I simply honoured what my body had been telling me all along: you don’t need to tolerate energy that harms you.
I gave myself permission to curate the energy I allow into my sanctuary.
To others, it may have looked like I was overreacting. But they hadn’t died and returned with a nervous system that can feel a lie in a laugh.
I had.
And with that comes a responsibility—not to tolerate, explain, or transmute the energies of others, but to protect my own.
Part 1: The Energetic Awakening of the NDEr
Beyond the Physical
During an NDE, the experiencer often reports leaving their physical body and entering a realm of light, love, and energetic oneness. In these states, communication is telepathic, truth is instantly known, and energy is experienced directly. Everything “speaks”—not with words, but with presence.
Upon return, the physical body may reassert its boundaries, but the NDEr’s spiritual perception often remains expanded. This means:
They feel energy rather than only observing behaviour.
They perceive dissonance between what someone says and what they truly feel.
They are often drawn to or repelled from people based on energetic resonance.
This is not imagination. For the NDEr, it is reality. And it requires a new way of relating to self and others.
The Nervous System Recalibrated
Many NDErs describe a permanent shift in their nervous system. They are more attuned to subtle cues, more easily overstimulated, and more prone to somatic responses to emotional energy. They may get headaches after conflict, nausea around certain people, or feel emotionally drained after social events.
This is not hypersensitivity in the pathological sense. It is often a natural consequence of having touched the vibrational realms of love and truth, and now being back in a world that often lacks both.
Part 2: How Another Person’s Energy Affects an NDEr
1. Energetic Incongruence
One of the first things many NDErs notice in others is incongruence—when someone’s words do not match their energy. For example:
A person says “I’m fine,” but is radiating pain or resentment.
Someone offers praise, but their energy feels jealous or competitive.
A medical professional uses polite words, but is inwardly dismissive.
This incongruence can feel jarring or even unbearable for the NDEr. It creates a kind of cognitive and energetic dissonance, which may lead to:
Confusion
Withdrawal
Anxiety or emotional overwhelm
Loss of trust
Because NDErs often feel the truth underneath the surface, they are deeply affected by dishonesty—whether overt or subtle. Even when others are unaware of their own inner state, the NDEr picks it up like background static.
2. Emotional Contagion
NDErs frequently absorb the emotional energy of others. This isn’t just empathy—it’s energetic transference. A person in distress, anger, or depression may unintentionally “leak” energy that affects the NDEr’s mood, energy level, or spiritual clarity.
For example:
A friend venting about work leaves the NDEr feeling heavy and confused for hours afterward.
A therapist working with trauma clients absorbs their emotional residue.
A stranger’s rage in a supermarket leaves the NDEr feeling physically ill.
These reactions are not imagined. Many NDErs describe themselves as energetic “sponges” post-NDE. This absorption can lead to compassion fatigue, spiritual burnout, or emotional collapse—especially when repeated over time or occurring in multiple relationships at once.
3. Power Imbalances and Energetic Drain
Some people, knowingly or not, draw on others’ energy to feel better. NDErs, often radiating light, clarity, or compassion, can become unconscious targets for this kind of energetic siphoning.
Common examples include:
A person who constantly shares their pain but never listens in return
Friends who see the NDEr as their spiritual guide or emotional saviour
Partners who demand emotional caretaking but do not provide support
These dynamics are draining, but also deeply painful for the NDEr—who may feel guilty for pulling away or confused as to why they feel depleted. They often wrestle with spiritual responsibility (“Shouldn’t I help?”) versus energetic self-preservation (“I’m burning out”).
Over time, unbalanced relationships erode the NDEr’s ability to thrive.
4. Toxic or Hostile Energy
Some energies are simply toxic to NDErs: controlling, manipulative, aggressive, or narcissistic behaviours. Even when these are subtle—gaslighting, emotional triangulation, denial, passive-aggression—they can leave the NDEr deeply shaken.
Because NDErs often return with open heart centres and expanded compassion, they are particularly vulnerable to:
Being guilted into tolerating abuse
Remaining in relationships long past their energetic expiry
Feeling spiritually responsible for “loving” everyone, even those who harm them
When toxic energy is endured for too long, the result can be spiritual injury: the sense of being alienated not only from others but from one’s own soul truth.
Part 3: Real-Life Examples of Energetic Impact
To illustrate these dynamics, let’s explore common scenarios:
Scenario 1: The Medical Appointment
An NDEr attends a routine medical checkup. The doctor appears friendly but hurried. While speaking calmly, the doctor’s energy is anxious and slightly dismissive.
The NDEr feels this. They begin to feel unsafe and emotionally shut down. Their questions about their health are not fully asked. They leave the appointment disoriented and depleted.
The doctor didn’t say anything wrong—but their energy spoke volumes.
Scenario 2: The Family Gathering
At a holiday dinner, an NDEr’s relative talks about their promotion. Outwardly, they are cheerful and confident. But inwardly, the relative is deeply insecure, competitive, and resentful of the NDEr’s lifestyle.
The NDEr picks this up. By the end of the night, they feel sick, tense, and emotionally exhausted—even though the conversation seemed “fine” on the surface.
They go home questioning their place in the family.
Scenario 3: The Supportive Friend
A friend calls the NDEr every week to check in. But the calls are long, draining, and filled with stories of emotional drama. The friend never asks how the NDEr is doing. They assume the NDEr is “strong” because they’ve had a near-death experience.
Eventually, the NDEr stops answering the phone. They feel guilty, but the friendship has become one-sided and energetically draining.
Part 4: The Cost of Not Understanding Energetic Impact
When the energetic impact of others is not understood or respected, NDErs suffer. The consequences are real and multidimensional:
Fatigue that does not resolve with sleep
Emotional burnout, even in relationships that appear “normal”
Psychic shutdown or suppression of intuitive gifts
Isolation, as the NDEr retreats to protect their peace
Somatic illness or flare-ups of stress-related symptoms
Spiritual disconnection or existential despair
Many NDErs do not yet have language for what they’re experiencing. They may feel ashamed of their sensitivity, confused about their needs, or unsure how to communicate boundaries without offending others.
Part 5: What NDErs Need from Others
Supporting an NDEr energetically does not require being spiritually advanced or “perfectly healed.” It simply requires awareness, humility, and the willingness to be responsible for the energy you bring.
1. Emotional and Energetic Self-Awareness
Everyone carries energy—moods, intentions, unconscious wounds. Becoming aware of your energy before interacting with an NDEr is essential.
Ask yourself:
What am I feeling right now?
Am I grounded and emotionally available?
Am I bringing tension, need, or unprocessed grief into this space?
Take time to settle your own energy before engaging deeply with an NDEr.
2. Consent and Emotional Boundaries
Before diving into emotional territory, ask: “Is this a good time to talk about something personal?” or “Would you like to hear what’s going on with me right now?”
This gives the NDEr a chance to opt in or out—and affirms that you are honouring their energy.
3. Honest, Congruent Communication
Be honest with your words. Let your energy match your message. If you’re not okay, say so. NDErs feel what’s under the surface anyway. Authenticity is healing; pretense is toxic.
4. Shared Emotional Labour
Don’t make the NDEr your therapist, confessor, or emotional crutch—unless they’ve agreed to that role. Ensure that relationships are reciprocal. Ask how they are. Offer space, not just stories. Listen as much as you speak.
5. Respect for Their Boundaries and Retreats
When an NDEr pulls back, it’s often for self-care. Don’t take it personally. Honour their need for silence, solitude, or energetic reset. They are not rejecting you—they are protecting their own well-being.
Part 6: What NDErs Can Do to Protect Their Energy
For NDErs, learning energetic self-protection is not optional—it is vital.
1. Name the Experience
Learn to name what you are feeling:
“I’m feeling energetically overwhelmed.”
“I’m picking up something that doesn’t feel like mine.”
“This conversation is draining me.”
Naming it gives you back agency.
2. Practice Energetic Hygiene
This may include:
Grounding practices (barefoot walking, breathing, nature time)
Clearing rituals (smudging, salt baths, energy healing)
Daily energetic check-ins: “What am I carrying that’s not mine?”
3. Create Boundaries Without Guilt
Say:
“I care about you, but I’m not able to talk about this right now.”
“I need some time to recharge.”
“This environment doesn’t feel right for me.”
You are not being selfish—you are preserving your vessel.
4. Choose Environments and People That Nourish
Seek out:
People with grounded, congruent energy
Spiritual or soul-based communities
Natural settings with minimal energetic noise
Work that aligns with your vibration
Give yourself permission to walk away from anything that depletes your soul.
Final Thoughts: Energy Is the New Language
For NDErs, energy is not abstract—it is lived reality. It speaks louder than words, outlasts intentions, and shapes every relational dynamic.
Understanding the impact of a person’s energy on an NDEr is essential for creating safe, respectful, and life-affirming spaces. Whether you are a friend, therapist, family member, or healthcare provider, your energy matters. Not just what you say—but how you are being.
When we become responsible for our own energetic field, we allow NDErs the dignity of protection, the grace of recovery, and the freedom to live as they now are—sensitive, radiant, and sacredly attuned.
