GRAVITY - a dramatic review of a blanket
I saw the word sleep in the ad.
And women curled up under grey blankets.
Blah blah blah ........ so very what I thought and scrolled on.
It came back into my feed repeatedly so I tapped the link.
It's a heavy blanket to calm you down is what it is.
Calm a scourge?
A woman with a racing brain who rarely sleeps ?
Go ahead, hit me with your best shot.
My amazing Doctor - had once issued the immortal line -
"We'll have to bring out the big guns" and prescribed a strong sedative that I became immune to as speedily as my head races.
Trying to sleep with the mania of a Bi-Polar high means that your brain is fizzing with kaleidoscopic colours and thoughts.
Sometimes it hurts more to shut my eyes because of the flickering.
On tour with my play I lay on a hotel bed in the last hours of sunlight before showtime and remarked wearily to a woman in the corner that it was easier to stay awake.
As a child I had many names.
That Divilskin. That little Scourge. The Changeling. Little Missus Up and Down. That bloody Rip.
And The Night Owl.
I read the reviews.
They were unremittingly positive.
Apart from a number who demanded their blanket and berated customer service.
And someone who said it smelt funny.
Now that's funny.
After an entire day of deliberation I logged on and bought the bloody thing.
It was so painless, and the instalment payments so easy I also bought a rock stars coat,
a t-shirt about saving bees,
and miracle gel pads to hold art onto crumbling walls.
The hallway and stairs are littered with canvasses.
I know, I'm a walking cliché.
It is March 15th.
|Karl Blau in Philly. PA.|
|mdm in Wexford Ireland|
The local elections are upcoming so I invite a Councillor to the opening of a blanket.
March 25th - I call my 89 year old Father to tell him I am out without a coat.
I spend my day wearing blue shades on a Tailors bench heckling passers by waiting for the man in a van.
The Reverend Mother hurrying to Mass catches me smoking despite my assurances to the contrary at tea in a Convent.
I photograph myself with a Franciscan Friary reflected in the mirror shades for atonement.
The blanket does not arrive.
I check the tracking number, it says 27th before 6pm.
My Father is driving me in from sowing forget me nots on my Mothers grave.
At the traffic lights he announces that he "simply CANT stop thinking about Olly Murs"
I. Can't. Even. 😮
How does Olly Murs even make it onto his radar?
Because he was on Mrs Browns Boys that's how.
To stop himself thinking about Olly Murs he decided to play "Grace" on his accordian.
Then that got him thinking about Sister Grace (the aforementioned Nun) then THAT got him thinking about the Convent, then THAT got him thinking about the time he had to collect wood for the Convent from McCormack & Hegarty's in 1946
"Can you drive an Ass and Car Tom?" says the Reverend Mother to the eager 16 year old boy who hadn't a breeze.
"I came back with my shoes in flitters as the bloody thing would only go left no matter how hard I pulled" he laughs.
I laugh louder.
Then I drew this.
|Turn, for Gods sake !|
And about 50 other things.
I had barely emailed customer support when the lad rang the bell.
He caught me on the hop.
I had sworn to an eager Facebook audience that I would live stream the opening.
I swore again when I realised this might be difficult one handedly.
I went at it like a bull in a gap.
Here is the proof.
It's soft and heavy.
I've barely clicked share before I'm under it.
It is odourless.
I describe it on Twitter as like being hugged by the Munster Rugby lads.
As a pub landlady in Neath in a previous life I speak from memory.
It's warm and heavy.
It makes you think that all the million things you are running around trying to do can wait for 5 minutes.
I force myself out from under it as it feels like being minded as a child.
The nostalgia for blankets, eiderdowns, comforters, the weight making the physical presence feel safe.
I look forward to bed in a room I had come to loathe, associating it with pain, grief, and nightmares.
Tossing and turning, fuming, reading, crying, throwing bedding off, pulling bedding on -----
Rinse and repeat ad nauseam.
Night 1 -
I drag the blanket over me at midnight like the women in the ad.
I am asleep 7 minutes after I lay down as that is how far I got in the Headspace meditation.
Did I mention I'm a walking cliché?
I wake at 7am feeling mentally fresh albeit with stiff ankles.
I have not moved during the night.
Then I find this in the wrapping paper I am shredding.
|Day 21 my eye|
The stiffness was sooooooo worth it!
Night 2 -
I lep in under the blanket and am asleep easily. It's very cosy. I realise the cover with the padding will have to come off on a hot summer night. It's washable. I'm used to it.
Night 3 -
It is my new favourite thing.
I can feel it calling me upstairs when I am wearing spectacles to read subtitles on documentaries about Near Death Experiences and UFO's.
Night 4 -
I remove the blanket at 5am and replace it with the duvet to do a controlled experiment. It has not escaped my attention that I am awake at 5am.
It feels like being exposed, lighter, cooler, fluffier .... it doesn't compare.
I consider dragging the blanket from room to room with me so I can feel safe and warm all day.
Night 5 -
It is a mild humid night and I do the leg-out thing to cool the physical presence of a scourge. I remove the layers of slips, t-shirts and vests that masquerade as nightwear and lie nudely giggling.
A woman has breasted me about the blanket for so long in Tesco that my scanning machine turned itself off and demanded to be put back in its cradle. I tell her I am trying to be honest and fair but may have let slip that I heart it.
Night 7 -
Diary Entry - April 5th 2019
"I love this blanket, it's definitely helping"
In a spirit of independent research I allowed access to the plant filled room that has a soundtrack of the ocean to some other critics.
I made them lie under it.
With their shoes on.
"It's lovely, I love it, it feels like a hug, it feels like there is someone beside you, how much is it?"
I have not been paid or comped for this review.
I just thought it would be informative for anyone who suffers from insomnia or anxiety.
Which is pretty much the entire planet.
The company mentions that it takes a while before the affects really kick in so I look forward to the coming weeks as I am so busy I don't know if I've lost a horse or found a rope.
*Please note that no matter how loving your relationship with your partner is you will not share one as it needs to be draped around the contours of the body*
I can't wait for #GravityBlanket.Co.Uk to send me another one for the couch.
And my Da 😗
Yours in Christ
mdm April 2019
Michelle Dooley Mahon is the author of "Scourged" which is available on Amazon
and the author and performer of the critically acclaimed theatre production "The Scourge" which has just finished touring as part of the FirstFortnight European Mental Health and Culture Festival.
She is currently writing and developing her new show - DiVilSkIn for which she was in receipt of an Artslinks.ie Bursary