If you suffer from chronic pain and I tell you that it is most likely impacting your sleep quality, you’re probably going to go, “Well, duh.” I was actually given amitriptyline to help manage some of the symptoms of my idiopathic intracranial hypertension, but (because I am also an enormous, terrified pansy when it comes to taking new meds) this has primarily led to me having a fetching new pillbottle-shaped paperweight on my nightstand and continuing to have terrible, painy sleep.
Supposedly, binaural beats can help cause the brain to try to match or follow the wavelength of the phantom beat. The end result is that you can supposedly trick your brain into whatever brainwave state you desire just by listening to what sounds like some drunk Aliens tapping out Morse code on a Casio someone dropped in a pool. One of these is the delta state associated with deep sleep, which many people suffering from chronic pain have a hard time getting and maintaining for a sufficient period of time.
Still, whether they work or not, some of them are kind of pleasant. There are even some layered with sounds like a cat’s purring, stormy weather, ocean waves, or birds, so they’re even relaxing to listen to on their own. There are other “pure tones,” which I’ve listened to alone or with music. I don’t know if they work because my sleep schedule is unorthodox at best, but I have noticed an uptick in the number of dreams I have that involve using trained Allosauruses to sniff out coal and uranium deposits inside of dark caves (think like pigs and truffles, only larger and mostly mean). Unfortunately the Allosauruses were really difficult to manage and not very tractable so we ended up having to go with using helicopters outfitted with some kind of radio-frequency device instead (which we completely should’ve done from the beginning, but the technology just wasn’t caught up yet).
It’s almost weirder than the time falling asleep after a bunch of Slenderman videos made me have a dream about playing volleyball and eating this really fancy carrot cake on the shore of a beach covered in baby seaturtles. Almost.