Sisterhood of the Amazon Acupressure Mat
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By Leslie Price
The stress I’ve accumulated during the pandemic has manifested itself in increasingly bizarre physical maladies. Last winter, my fingers regularly went white with cold thanks to Raynaud’s disease. I have experienced brief tussles with intense and painful heartburn. And insomnia haunts me nightly from 1 to 4am.
When I first saw a glimmer of a light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, it somehow made the weight of the past year and a half feel more evident. But just as I began to focus on myself again — there were thoughts of taking yoga classes, or even planning a trip — I got the dreaded phone call that our family would need to isolate after a covid exposure, this time in our kid’s kindergarten class. The first time we quarantined, she was three. Last year, we did it again at 4. And now she’s five. As everyone around us seems to “go back to normal,” we are still stuck in this moment, buffered by forces outside our control.
Experts say that the stress of this time is creating a “second pandemic” that will “persist even after the physical threat of the virus has been addressed.” It’s a global problem. And as we know from countless headlines over the past year or so, parents are burned out and suffering.
There’s not much to be done about our current situation (we’re rounding a week with no symptoms, and I feel extremely lucky in that regard), but the ongoing uncertainty is hard. Enter a humble, spiky foam-and-plastic mat I impulse purchased in December of 2016. I must have been stressed out at the time (I had had a baby in April of that year), but I really had no idea what was coming for me.
The manufacturer claims for The Mat are bold, and include things like: “ELIMINATES the need for expensive treatments as well as therapist, masseuse and chiropractor visits” as well as pain relief and “improved circulation, sleep, and mood.”
Despite its promise, the Mat laid, unloved, in a corner of my apartment, gathering dust, until the onset of the pandemic. I was living in New York City and practically vibrating with fear and stress. I dragged it out and when I wasn’t able to sleep at night, gingerly lowered myself onto it. The points burned into my back and I did feel more relaxed. I’ve been using The Mat intermittently since then, mostly when I wake in the middle of the night to helpfully worry about any matter of things.
The combination of the affordable price, ease of online ordering, and the pandemic’s unrelentingness has vaulted The Mat into new levels of popularity. I was excited to see an even-more-affordable version pop up in an early edition of Jessica Valenti’s newsletter, All in Her Head, as her new obsession. “I lay on it for ten to twenty minutes and when I stand up I’m a brand-new bitch,” she writes.
On Amazon, there are reviews like: “amazing torture device to kill the pain,” “clearly evil but extremely effective,” and “bizarre fire torture mat provides great relief!” It’s true; as this person on TikTok says, the mat, IMHO, “is giving what it’s supposed to gave.”
When I texted an LA TV-writer friend to ask her for a quote about her experience with The Mat, which I know from past conversations she loves and lays on regularly (even during the day?), she said, “Here’s a quote: Last night it didn’t work! It still felt great while I was on it, but I couldn’t fall asleep.” And yes, look: The Mat is not magic. It’s up against a lot right now — aging bodies that are creaky and pained from hunching over laptops and phones, and pandemic anxiety manifesting itself in our shoulders and necks. But for a brief period of time, it does seem to make things feel a little bit better. Maybe that’s all we can hope for, right now.