They say that opposites attract, and when it comes to my husband, the truth couldn’t be more real. Polar opposites in the majority of pretty much everything, yet, somehow, after 15 years, it works.
He’s currently obsessed with tracking his every motion, on the lack thereof. A night’s sleep never goes without a deep analysis via a myriad of tracking devices, followed by the inevitable “I’m really tired, because I only had two minutes of REM sleep”.
On the other hand, I have chosen not to acknowledge such frustratingly obvious nights of prolonged tossing and turning. I am a bad sleeper, and as such, the last thing I need to see is a further reminder of just how screwed my day will be and of my potential longevity, as a result of my permanent state of awakening throughout the night.
I am also a mouth breather. Gross, I know. I cannot sleep without at least a litre of water beside the bed, largely because I regularly wake with my mouth feeling as though I’ve been dragged face-first through the Sahara, with enough sand apparently lodged in my throat to suggest death is imminent.
Unfortunately, mouth breathing while sleeping isn’t particularly clever. Nasal breathing helps humidify and filter the air we breathe, which is partly why mouth taping for sleep has become the wellness hack du jour: tape your mouth shut at night and force your nose to do the job nature intended.
A quick observation of the behaviour of celebrity longevity icons, and it seems they are converted to the benefits. I mean, who would question the benefits of taping Gwenyth Paltrow or Ivanka Trump’s mouths shut? Perhaps they’re engaging in more sympathetic endeavours, realising the benefits could be good for humanity. How thoughtful they are.
As a certified claustrophobic, the entire concept already feels dangerously close to criminal intent. And, funnily enough, Joe Rogan, who is also a convert, touts a preferred brand, aptly called Hostage Tape, which is exactly how I would describe it.
There is also the uncomfortable fact that most people who know me, friends and foes alike, would probably consider taping my mouth shut an excellent idea, beyond the night and well into daylight hours.
So, does mouth taping for sleep actually work? Unfortunately, my attempt to adhere the tape lasted less than 20 seconds before the panic set in, and I ripped it off, feeling immense pain from the stickiness of it all, followed by utter relief. I then fell into a blissful, open-mouthed, dribbling sleep, knowing that I would survive another day out of captivity,
For those less anxious, Auckland Sleep notes that mouth taping may encourage nasal breathing in some people, but evidence supporting many of its broader sleep and health claims remains limited. If you cannot breathe comfortably through your nose, snore heavily, wake gasping or choking, or may have sleep apnoea, simply sealing your mouth shut is not a particularly intelligent experiment.
Which leaves me where so many modern wellness trends do: sceptical and mildly annoyed that my husband will undoubtedly find a device capable of measuring the results.
