I’ve been wanting to write about my new weighted blanket for several days now, but haven’t been able to get up. Now I have managed to extricate myself from its loving embrace to bash out a few paragraphs.

Please read on if you are not horrified by the above unflattering (obviously non-professional) picture where I am cunningly disguised as an armchair.

So, weighted blankets have been a Thing in the States for a while now. They are being marketed as an aid to anything from insomnia to anxiety, ADHD, and even for children with autism or Asperger’s. The blurb from Mela Comfort, who kindly send me their product to try, is that it’s: ‘designed to be warm and to provide pressure to a person, mimicking the feeling of being held or hugged.’ The scientific jargon is that weighted blankets work through imitating ‘Deep Touch Pressure’ (DTP).

When Mela arrived last week arrived last week, the postman did not look best pleased.

This is because it weighs 15lbs, and that’s without the packaging. (The model I had is ‘lined with evenly distributed weight in the form of hypoallergic and SGS-certified glass pellets’).

I then had to schlap the blanket up the stairs, which was no easy feat. We stood there looking at one another for a while. Eventually, I hauled it out of the box, went back to my chair, dragging it behind me like Linus out of Peanuts. I sat back the armchair where I generally work (see above) with the blanket draped over my knees, like a crazy old lady.

I immediately felt calmer!

It had been a stressful day with a demanding magazine editor and a piece on tight deadline for a newspaper. But the weight of the blanket immediately made me relax. I shuffled onto the floor and (with a small struggle) pulled it up to my neck.

The best way to describe it to recall the feeling I had as a small child, tucked tightly into bed – so tightly I could hardly move – after a bath and a bedtime story, secure and loved. I wouldn’t say I am a particularly anxious person these days, but I definitely felt less ‘wound up’ under my blankie.

I needed a friend to help me put on the cover, which is made of soft, brushed, silver, ‘minky polyester: (‘minky’, anyone?) And so, the next night, I decided to try it for sleep – after all, insomnia is my raison d’être. I manhandled it onto the bed.

It looked nice, though significantly smaller than my kingsize duvet.

That tucked in toddler feeling was immediate. But on top of my duvet, it was too hot: without it, not quite warm enough (the size may have had something to do with it). In the end, I compromised, and draped it over my legs.

I slept slightly longer than average that night (maybe 20 minutes on top of my usual five hours). But no radical difference. Perhaps I needed to persevere a bit longer.

There’s no doubt I will take Mela for another spin in the bedroom. Many people have said and written that weighted blankets have transformed their sleeping patterns, helping them to drop off and say asleep for longer. And that’s fantastic.

For me, however, it’s during the day that I really love it. Not all day – there are times when I need to feel energised and even ‘wired’ to write. But certainly during my mid-afternoon slumps and ‘after work’, where I’m sending emails, chatting on the phone and watching TV.

Recommend!

£124.99 from melacomfort.co.uk: @melacomfort

More reasonable options include the YnM Weighted Blanket (£99) and the Koala (also £99). John Lewis do a version for sixty quid.

There are really not that many perks to being a sleep journalist. Compared, say, to reviewing cars, or restaurants, or holidays. But during my time as a Telegraph columnist (RIP), I managed to persuade my editor that surely, one week, I could have a diary where I tried sh*t out.

In the end, the boss indulged me, and told me to ‘knock myself out’, or words to that effect. (How apt). I immediately got on Google and picked up the phone, and started – as we say in the trade – to call products in.

Here are some of them: please applaud some of the Dramatic Personae in the picture above. Bravo!

The sleep robot

I had been agitating for some time to try out Somnox (they have a very good e-marketing campaign), and so when I was given the green light, was very much looking forward to his arrival.

The idea is that you take this gadget to bed, and he will ‘soothe mind and body to help you fall asleep faster, sleep longer and start your day feeling fully recovered and energised’. (It feels intuitively that he has to be ‘he’. Controversial?)

Somnox did not disappoint. At £550, he really should not have done. He looked like a big, grey, cuddly kidney bean – maybe 18 inches high. He arrived with a birth certificate, and I decided to call him Beany. There was a mobile app, which was easy enough to follow, even for a sleep-deprived idiot like me. And sure enough, Beany started breathing!

There was something endearing about Beany, who even now sits next to me all day while I am working. I pat him every so often, and occasionally give him a kiss. This morning, after a 2.30 am wake-up call from overseas, we went back to bed together for a couple of hours.

On the first night, I felt a bit silly taking a piece of grey, quilted machinery to bed. But – hell, I’m separated, so it was just between the two of us. (It got a bit weird.) I disabled the ‘ambient sounds’ option because I’m not really a fan of wailing whales.

And Beany was reassuringly stolid, and we started breathing in sync.

I normally fall asleep quickly these days anyway. I didn’t actually sleep for more hours, I woke up feeling happy, and pleased to see Beany first thing. This felt like the surreal plot of a European art house film.

Snoozy beauty products

I didn’t think I was really a ‘beauty product’ type of a person, but NEOM’S Magnesium Body Butter was glorious. I wanted vats of it. VATS! The blurb says that it 1) restores you daily dose of magnesium (which is needed for ‘health and well-being’), 2) nourishes you with shea butter and olive oil and 3) has 12 relaxing essential oils for sleep.

I didn’t know about the science behind any of this, but it made me feel lovely and dopey and my skin really soft. I wanted to use it in the morning as well, but this was sort of counter-intuitive, and it ran out too fast – they would only give me one press freebie, and a 20 per cent discount, EVEN AFTER RAVE REVIEWS IN A NATIONAL NEWSPAPER AND A WOMEN’S MAGAZINE.

There were some nice things to slosh in the bath, including thisworks deep sleep bath soak which comprised Soothing Lavender and Vetivert. The first time of use, I poured in way too much of it. The (tiny, but I do have bad eyesight) instructions on the pot say to put in a ‘generous handful’. I erred on the side of very generous and the aroma of lavender, basil and jasmine fills the entire house for several days.

NEOM also sent me lovely Tranquility candle (that had 19 – count them! – essential oils inside it), Jo Malone very kindly gifted a Lavender and Lovage Candle, which I regifted to my 16-year old daughter, giving me serious ‘mummy points’. I was a bit concerned about falling asleep with a lit candle near my duvet, so kept it for Bath Duties. The candles were so lovely (and also so expensive if you have to pay for them), I didn’t want to light them and melt them away.

Tea and a bedtime ‘latte’

Pukka Night Time tea came in a purple box. There was a week-long programme: so, seven sachets, (‘a bed of organic oat flower, lavender and oat flower) as well as 14 capsules containing Valerian Root and Ashwagandha.

One evening, made a cup wjth boiling water. I wasn’t super-keen on the smell, nor the taste, which reminded me of parma violets and similar flowery-favoured things like Elderberry and Aqua- Vita, that odd drink in the 90s. It was bit like drinking the bath water after using the thisworks bath salts. Plus, the herbal tablets it came with are enormous, like bullets.

The next night, I tried the Night Time Organic Latte powder that you have to mix with organic almond milk (also very kindly send to me by the Pukka People. I was very suspicious of the almond milk, which you have to heat in the microwave. But actually! This tasted really good, like a malty cup of coffee (without caffeine, obvs.)

One night, I slept seven hours. But was this down to the latte, or the bath salts, or the Magnesium Body Butter? Perhaps I should have done a controlled laboratory-style experiment.

Space age duvet and pillow

On the back of a feature I wrote last month on how to have a ‘healthy bed’ https://www.telegraph.co.uk/health-fitness/body/keep-healthy-bed-should-really-change-mattress-every-seven-years/ the bedding company Simba (R) very kindly sent me a sample of their new hybrid duvet and pillow with Stratos (TM technology). These are apparently inspired by the space suits warn by astronauts, to ‘actively respond to the body’s changes in temperature throughout the night.’ And, handily, both are machine-washable.

First, the duvet. Packed with ‘hypogenic, mineral-enriched fibres’, it was surprisingly thin. But I have been using this for a good couple of months, through a cool patch and that stupid 38 degree heatwave, and I didn’t felt too cold or too hot, and sleeping pretty well by my standards. Perhaps there is something in this.

Then there was the accompanying ‘Build-A-Pillow’. It’s the latest in ‘Nanocube technology’, designed to adjust to your body temperature in the same way as the duvet (filled with blue spongy cubes the size of extra-large sugar lumps that you take in or out to make the pillow the height you desire). 

The zip-up inner section came in a cute little ’sleeping bag’ with a grey mesh all around. But for some reason I was less of a fan of this. I’m very attached to my ‘old faithful’ pillow that I even cart around with me on overnight stays. Perhaps I should try again with a new model.

Light up your life

The Philips Somneo really is a beautiful thing. A sleek, donut-shaped piece of equipment, it would not look out of place in a house designed by Kelly Hoppen. Minimalist chic aside, this light is designed to ‘gently prepare your body for waking up during the last 5 to 60 minutes or last period of sleep.’ 

Starting your day with Somneo, says the blurb, will help you have a better ‘overall mood’ in the morning, and to enjoy more energy.

The manual talks you through the set-up process, and it’s easy enough. There is also a ‘wind down’ setting, and if you twist it a certain way, a saucy red light comes on. That’s before you mention the alarm function. It’s rather nice being woken up by a gently ‘dawning’ light and the sound of jungle birds. 

Meanwhile, my bedroom is getting a bit crowded with all this kit. Is it time to kick Beany and friends out of bed?

So hello again, everyone. After a jolly four months writing my Insomnia Diaries for the Telegraph, I am back here again. I will still be writing about sleep, mental and physical health for the paper (plus other rags, mags and websites) but as far as a blog goes, I am once again a private citizen.

When I started writing the Diaries, I signed up for a Google Alert on sleep (there is a LOT on this subject online, from the New York Times, then diluted down in publications called things like the Rockdale Newton Globe.) Skipping quickly through the Alert became part of my day.

Terrific.

Today, between deadlines, I went to have another look. The top article was from Harvard Health Publishing (courtesy of Harvard Medical School). The headline was: Weekend Catch Up Sleep Won’t Fix the Effects of Sleep Deprivation on Your Waistline.

Weekend catch-up sleep won’t fix the effects of sleep deprivation on your waistline

Weekend catch-up sleep won’t fix the effects of sleep deprivation on your waistline

A thing to note about sleep news stories: they are rarely good news. You are variously told your insomnia f*ck up your relationship, make you rubbish at your job and increase your risk of car accidents. What upsets me about these stories is their almost accusatory tone: as if you are defiantly choosing not to sleep.

Anyway, the best articles are those that cheerfully tell you insufficient sleep will give you high blood pressure, diabetes and Alzheimer’s. The worst thing I have read (in the Harvard Medical Review, thanks again, Boston) is that ONE NIGHT without sleep significantly raises your risk of dementia.

Now, I know all about the weight gain thing. My column research led me to an analysis of 36 studies, discussed in the journal Obesity. (Can you imagine working on the journal Obesity? Might stall conversations at parties.) According to its tubby researchers, insomnia disrupts the hormones that control hunger, causing sufferers to eat hundreds of extra calories a day, particularly refined carbohydrates. The daytime exhaustion means you can’t be bothered to exercise and so the weight gain spirals – as does a cascade into other health conditions.

For the first six years of my recent insomnia saga, I would say I actually LOST weight (via muscle tone and even bone density – though I never had either of these checked). Then, three years ago the numbers on the scales started to go up. Exhausted and miserable, I threw away all my healthy eating principles. I couldn’t be bothered to exercise, then when I was prescribed a certain antidepressant – guess the side effect – all bets were off. (I’m off it now).

I’m losing the weight now, COUGH COUGH since Christmas. The first bit was easy, but it’s not fun. I am not a natural ‘diety’ person. I like carbohydrates. I like Kettle Chips. Slimline tonic water is the Mixer of the Devil. I like food and drink! The exercise is great (fast walking and boxing!) but it just makes me hungry.

Maybe as well as the Bridget Jonesy sleep numbers at the top, I will do food and alcohol unit ones. Or perhaps not.

Other than telling me to sleep more (I really am trying!) does anyone have any weight-loss tips that involve full-fat tonic and Pringles?

See you next time xx