Still waking up feeling less than rested?
Even after getting in seven hours, an early bedtime, and no late-night blue light exposure?
Well, your fatigue might not be all in your head.
But it could be in what’s under your head.
(Less pucker, more posture-pedic next time, kaythx.)
That’s right. I’m talking pillow quality here.
After night upon night of waking up with tense shoulders, taut jaw muscles, and back pain, I was never sure what to do. I spend endless pre-sleeps setting the intention of not moving from my casket pose. Why? So that I don’t end up suffering the pain of post-side-sleep posture come dawn o’ clock. See, I’m the type that oscillates between back position, side position, the anatomical Da Vinci (AKA “the snow angel”), and the dab:
And, for a time, I tried to go Chick-gyver and do a DIY mod on what I have at home – even tweaking my pillow placement.
Under the knees. Between the knees. At an angle. Bordering me in on all sides like an asylum resident with a penchant for auto-defacement. But, today, I realized my improvisation might be in vain. Because, no matter how I place my pillows – it doesn’t change the shape they take once they’re sitting under and not supporting the orb my think organ lives in. And if that’s happening, of course I won’t sleep well. It’s half the reason for the nocturnal tossing. Even if we don’t wholly realize it, discomfort wakes us in the night. Even if we only become quasi conscious before flopping into another posiche, it still steals us from our sleep cycles, forcing us to re-initiate them. When that happens, two other things do too: First, our brain and body think they’re not getting enough rest (so we wake up sleepy). And, second, even as we re-position our bodies (especially if it’s on a poorly supported pillow for our body type or sleep style), we still don’t get a good sleep. (Because it’s still a crappy pillow.) Which means we awaken, not only fatigued, but with tense necks, pecs, shoulders, and chomper muscles. When I realized this, I realized something else immediately:
Maybe it’s time to end my current relache with my cranial cushions.
And get down with something other than down filling.
(It’s not me; it’s you.)
So, I promptly started doing some hunting until I finally found my mail order bedroom groom to be.
However, before declaring who wins prince charming to my sleeping beauty goals, I’ll go through my whole (it’s brief, though, really) Goldilocks search scenario. (Ya, know for the sake of catering to all body and sleep types reading this). That way, you can see why each bear’s pillow porridge is a poor or perfect choice for you. (Even if it wasn’t for me.) See, for me – as mentioned above – I’d need something that allows me both to lay face up, as well as on my side. So, I started my search.
First thing I encountered?
This “Therapeutic Deluxe Memory Foam Pillow”:
What’s it do? Well, by bridging the space between your neck and shoulder, this pillow locks your backbone into alignment. How much’s it cost? $60. Not bad – but it’s namely for side sleepers. And if I’m going to invest in an upgrade, I need something that also accounts for my supine proclivities.
Next?
The “Splintek”.
This one’s tough to turn down because it promises to deliver on a long term problem of mine: relieving TMJD flareups conceived during the night. Especially at only $81. It allegedly alleviates all that jaw and neck and head tension by cradling my cerebral bowling ball and taking pressure off my jaw and ear. The pleasant side effect? That you even breathe easier. Admittedly, I’m intrigued. But I needed to keep reading.
Yet another pillow for side sleepers?
Okay. Fine. I’ll bite with my ubertight jaw from nighttime grinding. But only for you folk who catch a case of Coldilocks syndrome at night. Too cold? Too hot? This “Iso-cool memory foam pillow” – while also for side sleepers – uses “Phase Change Material” to alter its temp, depending on your body’s. And it’s only $47.
Then, I found it:
The “Symphony Pillow” by Tempur-pedic for back sleepers.
Built from pressure-relieving materials, its foam’s meant to impart support on both your head and neck as you rest, belly up in bed. The plus? Exactly what I need: it’s said to be equally supportive, should you switch to your side mid-slumber. The un-plus? (Of course, there’s always one.) Much like anything I ever desire, it’s the most expensive of any of these cephalic supports. But when you’re investing in a new relationship with your long term bedmate…
Can you truly put a price on unconditional support?
Apparently, the answer’s yes. That price is $100.
Sure, I’ve got mixed feelings about finally finding an overpriced pillow prince to kiss me back to sleep.
But if his vow is to gimme my best beauty snooze?
Pshh… Homeboy can take my tiara, too.