I’m Totally Okay Being Trapped Under This Weighted Blanket

I know I should be feeling a profound sense of dread as I write this from beneath the reassuring-yet-pulverizing heft of the weighted blanket that has pinned me to my bed for the past two weeks, but I’m actually totally okay with it.

When Amazon sent me a heavier weighted blanket than anticipated, I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal. What difference will a couple extra pounds make? I can now say those extra few pounds are the difference between removing the blanket whenever I please and being slowly crushed to death. Honestly, I might be dying, but I’m super impressed by how well this thing works!

When I first cozied up beneath it I immediately felt a sense of calm—that was soon followed by the oddly pleasurable sensation of my spleen rocketing around my abdomen as it puréed the rest of my organs in a pinball-like frenzy. Turns out the weighted blanket helps my body produce so much relaxing serotonin that it’s basically like I have my own internal, all-natural morphine drip. I’ll be blissed out of my mind as long as nobody pulls back the blanket to expose the mangled heap of bruised, quivering flesh beneath.

No amount of melatonin, sleep medication, or chamomile tea could stop the anxieties of life from keeping me up deep into the night. Now, the only time my sleep is disturbed is when I’m startled awake by what I first think must be a crack of thunder from an oncoming storm, but is really just the shattering of a large bone (maybe femur?) beneath the weight of this super-chill blankie. I never thought my insides being smashed to paste would feel so soothing—like a firm full-body hug—but here I am, slowly being turned into pâté, and I might as well be lying on a Caribbean beach with a piña colada in hand.

And don’t just believe me: The Amazon reviews are glowing. (Note: One of the biggest concerns many potential buyers have is whether a heavier blanket means a hotter blanket. Well I can personally tell you I feel downright cool under here, possibly because my nerve endings have been obliterated from the neck down. Your experience may differ.)

All in all, I consider myself fortunate. I could’ve been crushed to death by any number of heavier, less relaxing objects (boulders come to mind). But as it stands—or, really, as it lies motionless while its life is gently wrung from its body—I’m living the best-case scenario. Yeah, I’m a little concerned with the light oozing sensation on the lower left side of my abdomen, but it’s happening so slowly that it’s actually kind of nice. Might be blood, or maybe an organ being pushed out of my hip like how a tomato slice gets smushed out the back of a burger when you take a bite. But I’m not too worried. The blanket has done its job of cuddling me into a false sense of security—even as it destroys me. That’s all I could ever ask for. Other than for someone to take this goddamn thing off of me.

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