Isolation Tank

Sometimes, do you ever feel like you need to just shut out the world for the sake of your own self-preservation?

I was there last night.

Maybe because of the migraine, but last night there was just no rest for the weary and my whole souls felt assaulted by the world. I felt like I was drowning, you know? Every sense was on overdrive - I was a raw wound all over - and the salt kept pouring in. Trying to keep my mind occupied through the end of the migraine, I tuned into the TV with the sounds on very, very low. What a mistake. Evening TV is one big assault on my senses under normal conditions. Add a migraine to the mix and I should have known better.

There is no escaping the Terry Schiavo case. Every channel, all the time. I am praying so devotedly for the family and for Terry, but I hurt with every prayer as the inevitable death of this woman and the hurt of her family just ulcerates my heart over and over.

Flipped the channel. Ah, powerful earthquakes shake Indonesia - hundreds, perhaps thousands of people are dead and injured. Tsunami warnings abound. Fantastic - just what this region needs - more of THAT. Again, bang down on my knees, asking God to spare as many as He would and comfort those who are so injured, scared and so tired. Prayer brought tears, but comfort to my soul. Thank you God.

OK, so no more news for me. Switched over to the "Bachelor" which has rarely let me down before, as it allows my mind to switch entirely into idle mode so I can coast for awhile. Only caught the last half hour of what was a 2-hour show. Oh man, big mistake. What once was an innovative way to meet singles and potentially find a mate (well, at least that was the promised premise) has morphed into one big exploitive game of sex, strategy, and seduction. Sickening. Wonderful. No more mind coasting for me.

I begin having a conversation with myself. "Where is Seinfeld, anymore? Maybe TNT - nope, some random movie. What about channel 118 - saw it there last week. Nope, some OTHER random made-for-TV movie. Surely there is something else on - we have 4000 channels."

Nope, wrong. Nothing.

So TV goes off. A relief, actually. I decide to read. Copy of People magazine somehow snuck its way into my grocery bag. Tried to read that. Uh on. Terry Schiavo again, both sides. Angry, awful details. Heartache. I turned the pages, hoping for relief. None to be found, as here is Scott Peterson's death sentence for killing Laci and Connor. Sharon Rocha's gut-wrenching entire statement to Scott was in bold print and impossible to NOT be moved to tears by.

Crying now again, I flipped more pages, hoping for something on Brittany Spears dog or something - anything to rest for a moment. Nope. There was the story about Jessica Lunsford and that awful, ruined soul who attacked and then murdered this baby. I can't imagine the pain involved in losing your baby like that and hurt for the innocence lost.

OK, so now I am just a puddle on the floor.

So I have now determined I cannot watch TV, and cannot read in my state of mind and body. No radio either. Why chance it? Maybe I need to go live in the wilderness for awhile to just REST. Maybe a sensory deprivation chamber? I am beginning to think there is something quite appealing about the whole concept of hibernation. At least until I can get myself well again and face this sharp angled world with a healthy degree of armor on my heart.

I ended up answering the increasing beckon of sleep, and crawled under my snuggly down comforter. Good decision, that.

The sunshine this Tuesday morning did help restore my spirit, but so far, I have only dared to tune into Noggin on the TV this morning and no newspapers, magazines, websites, or radio yet. I need some more time in this isolation tank - it is good for me to act as my own protective collander onto the invading world and shelter my oversensitive heart right now. Baby steps. I am not ready to dive into the deep end of the pool yet.

Maybe tomorrow.