Forgive me if this article fails to make sense. If my sentences lack the odd crucial noun or verb or tail off inexplicably, please do not write in and complain. Try not to judge me too harshly if I let slip an irrational outburst. And if you detect a needlessly querulous tone, be tolerant. Indeed, count yourself lucky that you can't actually see me right now. You'd be shocked. I'm wild-eyed, dangerously pale and haggard.

I laugh one minute, sob the next. I do not (despite what my family might say) have bi-polar disorder. I'm just severely sleep deprived. For the past 10 weeks I have had no more than two consecutive hours' sleep at any one time. And that's bad. I am a woman on the edge.

If these symptoms ring a bell for you, and you have not been diagnosed with a mental illness, then you'll be glad to know that help is at hand. In the US, where more than one-third of the adult population is bothered by insomnia at least some of the time and 10 to 15% have chronic, unrelenting insomnia, researchers have just come up with a promising new treatment. A group of psychologists led by Dr Jack Edinger, at Duke University medical centre and the Durham VA medical centre, has found that cognitive behavioural therapy can overcome "persistent primary insomnia". In English this means: the tendency to keep waking up in the night is all in the mind and can be cured.

Edinger's idea is that if you change your attitude to sleep, and then learn new habits, you can effectively reprogramme yourself to stay asleep until it's time to wake up without the aid of narcotics, alcohol or a blow to the head. His "sleep education module" teaches insomniacs good sleeping habits.

But, as Edinger explains: "First we anticipate certain common misconceptions such as how much sleep an individual actually needs." Most of us believe that without a minimum of eight hours' kip we'll die, or at least feel very rough. But Edinger claims that many people don't need that amount of sleep at all. We may actually be punishing ourselves needlessly by tossing and turning in bed when we should be up watching late-night TV, doing the crossword or, as Margaret Thatcher reputedly did on four hours' sleep a night, running the country.

His treatment educates the persistent waker about how the body's sleep system works, then gives them a set of basic rules: no napping during the day, no lie-ins and a standard daily wake-up time (even if this means getting less sleep than you think you need). The idea is that you can control what time you wake up in the morning by using an alarm clock, but you can't necessarily control when you fall asleep at night. If you keep waking up at the same time every day then your night-time sleep will gradually sort itself out.

This doesn't, however, tackle the real insomniac's issue: those 2am wake-ups, heart pounding with anxiety. Of course, this kind of behaviour might be wholly reasonable. Nick Leeson, say, was probably justified in having his odd bout of wakefulness. But for those who wake night after night unable to get back to sleep for worrying about not having changed the cat litter, Edinger's rules could prove handy.

For one, you're not allowed to lie agonising about anything. Worry all you want, just not in your bed. Ideally, you'll have already got it out of your system by setting aside "thinking time" earlier in the day - where you plan that mini-break, chew your nails about your late report, or fret about being spotted kicking the neighbour's cat. If you haven't done this, however, and wake up panicking, then you have to get out of bed, go to a separate room and panic there instead. You're not allowed to worry, plan, eat, watch TV or argue in bed. Bed is just for sleeping (sex, I imagine, may be permitted but possibly only if it's relaxing sex. No orgies or kinky stuff, please).

Edinger's results are promising. He says: "Many patients [in the study] were able to reach fairly normal levels of sleep with this treatment and without the use of sleeping pills, and the results lasted through six months of follow-up." This is good news on many levels, not least because doctors usually prescribe sedative hypnotics or antidepressants for insomnia, which are not a good idea for long-term treatment of chronic primary insomnia.

So why hasn't anyone thought of this before? "The sleep-medicine field is relatively new," says Edinger, "and this study is unique in that it specifically targeted sleep maintenance insomnia, the largest subgroup."

Curing this would be no minor achievement. Mood-related complaints are the most common manifestation of sleep deprivation - angry outbursts, mood swings, forgetfulness. Pair that with America's gun culture or indeed any British hospital and, well, it's enough to keep you up at night.

There are other dangerous physical effects, too. Car accidents, for instance, are commonly a result of sleep deprivation. And insomniacs are, Edinger points out, "more likely to seek health care than people who don't, and this puts a huge burden on the health care system".

The sad truth is that though I begged him for help, Edinger can do nothing for me. My night-time wakefulness stems from one thing, and one thing alone: a 10-week-old baby boy with the appetite of a small horse. But here's a tip for you: if Edinger's treatment doesn't work, have children. I used to be one of those anxious insomniac types. Now I'm pitifully grateful for any sleep I can get, night or day. I mean, it's so hard having no sleep; so relentless, I'm so exhausted - I just can't - what was I saying? Look just stop hassling me, OK? I have to find my car keys ...