Hello, once again! I thought I’d recap an experience I’ve wanted to document for a very long time, ever since I first heard of it in 2013. I have my trans-choir to thank for help in getting me the experience, as you know, practically everything is a financial hardship these days, and I can barely afford any splurging. But wherever there is coldness, there is always some kindness, too. And that was what I really needed to really appreciate this wonderful opportunity that I had heard of so often.
On Thursday, 12 December 2019, I got to enjoy two relaxing hours inside a sensory deprivation tank at Float On! As I had said before, I previously heard about them in late September of 2013, just shortly after having come to terms with my newfound self, and after somebody at the Voc Rehab centre had told me about it. I vowed to add it to my bucket list, but I guess I let it slip my mind, as it wasn’t a high priority in my life at the time. Still, if it had not been for the fact that my trans-choir was connecting with prospective businesses to donate their services for a raffle, I would have never been able to follow through with it.
The person who was generous enough to give me the opportunity to experience my first float described the various rooms to me in great detail, and complemented that with a hands-on tour of each room, my mental pictorial image was complete. In this particular centre, each of their float tanks are made up of three distinct styles, found in six rooms.
In rooms 1 and 2, the tanks (Ocean Float) are like a cabin or walk-in refrigerator, or like a really big metal locker. You open the door, which hinges from the left side if facing the tank, and you step over a threshold to get into the foot-deep tank. Then you simply close the door behind you. There are light switches that you can flick as well.
In room 4, the tank is nearly the same, except that it is much more spacious, and it’s called the Zero Gravity Float.
In room 3, they have a pod-like tank—think spaceships and space capsules. This is my favourite, as it also symbolizes metamorphosis. Measuring about five and a half feet tall, you have to go to the foot of the tank to lift the hatch up from the tub, and you have to climb over a three-foot-tall ledge to get in. Once immersed in the water, you pull down the hatch by gripping the straight handle towards you. The lights are enclosed in rubber cylinders. The hatch has a set of parallel wavy ridges, which gives it an appearance of a clamshell.
In rooms 5 and 6, they have their own open-float pools, which are simply part of the room, so that claustrophobic people who don’t do well with being enclosed in a tank can still enjoy the experience of floating.
Each room is about the size of a bathroom, meant to only have one person occupying it. There is a plate lock sign on the door, which allows someone who’s sighted to glance at it and know if it was vacant or occupied based on the colours green and red. Obviously, a blind person wouldn’t be able to pull down the lever if it were the latter! I didn’t even realise what those signs said until I made someone read it to me when I was thirteen. Each room has a set of benches for stowing your belongings, as well as some toiletries, and some showers, all conveniently located at the foot of the tank. At the head was a filtration system that turned on after they played two minutes of music that rumbled underneath the tank, letting you know that your session was wrapping up, in case you ended up sleeping through it.
When I first walked into the building, it reminded me of a warm and humid room where there’d be two indoor swimming pools, but it was much smaller. They had several couches and refreshments, as well. When it was my turn to go in for my session, I followed an L-shaped hall that had doors on both sides. When I found my room, I turned left and found myself with the showers and benches to my right, and the tank running parallel with the door. That was all there was to it. They gave me a set of ear plugs, and, letting the door close behind them, I was left to my own devices. I brought over my stereo microphone so I could capture some outside ambience, though it honestly sounded like I was in a bathtub in my own house. I took a cool shower before getting in just to help me wart off some of the heat from the building, as I still had some balance issues by the reminders of being in that hot hotel kitchen back in Arizona. Then I got in and pulled the lid behind me, shoving in my ear plugs, leaving me in total silence. The bottom of the tank felt like some bathtubs that have tiny bumps all over it, supposedly to help gain better foot traction, or maybe it was just decoration. I wasn’t immediately made aware of this, but over time, I gradually became aware that the air around me had a plant-like smell to it, almost like something I would smell in a hospital. I sometimes smelt it at airports and coffee shops, so I’m not sure if it’s something that they use in their filtration systems. Sometimes when it rains, I noticed that smell, as well. It sort of reminded me of the refrigerant chemical they use on air conditioners. Or, more than likely, it might be caused by mould or mildew growing on the coils, since you’re generally not supposed to be able to smell the coolant. I don’t believe magnesium sulphate has any smell, but it does taste bitter, and it can even cause your eyes to sting. That happened to me about two times, but I didn’t have access to fresh water to get rid of it, so I just had to deal with it.
I was really nervous about floating on my back, not being a skill I was able to master in my swimming lessons when I was little, but as I let go of the handle with one hand, I got to experience total floatation after overcoming my initial fear. When I sat up, I found it nearly impossible for my body to break through the point where the pressure would be equal. In a regular bathtub, when you push your hand through the water, you can immediately feel the surface tension give way, and you can move it freely within. But here, it was like pushing down on a spring. As my skin started absorbing some of the magnesium around me, I felt my back get a little warm, and my skin had a smoother texture, as well. Occasionally, I got up to change positions, but other than that, I lay motionless, gently drifting to and fro. I sometimes felt the radiators beneath the floor heat up the water a little bit, making sure the temperature did not go below skin-neutral temperature, which is around 93.5 degrees Fahrenheit.
I began to think about all that I had done that year… getting TMJ in early January, going to the library to work on my novel in February, passing my ham radio technician exam in March, finally learning how home theatre systems and entertainment centres worked and going to my first retreat since the year of horrible things that happened to me (in 2016) in April, as well as spending some time in our new greenhouse, then learning to use professional audio equipment in May, attending a first-ever local pride party in June, finishing my novel in July and looking for test readers, learning how to sew and embroider, which got me to buying my very own machine in August, taking a ceramics class that summer, reading Harry Potter for the very first time, pawning and selling almost all of my belongings and paying off $500 on my debts, saying good-bye to my bird, who died on an early Friday morning in September, probably because it was extremely chilly that day, and her cage was outdoors, though she was well-covered. A few days before that, I followed through with my promise and helped my mother acquire a cute kitten so we’d have someone to play with and hopefully catch mice, since there were plenty of them the year before. We named her Tigeresa. Then I went back to the Hull Foundation Learning Centre to enjoy my second Monster Mash retreat in October, finally being able to fully participate in a trans-inclusive choir! Helping organize a fundraising cabaret, which led up to me getting the certificate. But best of all, I finally got to obtain my favourite music from the Wizard of Oz! Everything, both good and sad, were slowly blending together, balancing each other out. I looked forward to the phone-banking session I had volunteered to do later that day, and I hoped to bring my mother in for a session. I got to learn lots more about floating here.
Just as I was letting my mind wander some more, I became aware of a low rumble gently rising in volume, until I was completely surrounded by the music emanating from beneath the tank. I later learnt that they used transducers that sort of act like subwoofers. I quickly got up and shoved the lid open, got out, and I immediately took another shower. Water that has been saturated with lots of Epsom salt crystallises and creates a fine powder that can leave fingerprints behind if you touched things. This is why it is preferred that you get into the tank totally naked. Don’t worry, the room has no windows or anything. Since I didn’t have my hearing aids in while I was showering, I wasn’t able to hear the filter come in until I had listened to the recording when I got back home.
I quickly got dressed, took a few more pictures of the tank for potential use in a book cover, and then I went back out to wait for my ride to take me to my next activity. When it was close to picking me up, I got more pictures of the building structure, as well. I had just learnt how to bond bricks together with mortar, as I had wanted to build a brick sculpture of the adobe house in Mexico with an open space in the middle for a courtyard, and I finally wrapped up my day by enjoying my first burrito bowl from Chipotle! And so, my friends, that was my first experience in a sensory deprivation tank, and I look forward to continue trying out different tanks soon!