Rocket Man: Part 1

I tried to sleep last night...liggering in a cold sweat of pain and mental flashbacks...the silence seems too indifferent and cold...not used to the silent welcome of home. She, however, sleeps deeply beside me...unaware and far-away from the horrors that lie within my own mind. I've tried to put "on a good front", or is it "face," since returning home, but everyday seems to tug a little harder at the curtain of self-doubt and fear that still hides deep inside. I get out of bed to exchange the sweat covered shirt with a fresh fluffy replacement...looking at the time (3:00 am)...I recall my upcoming day like a mental laundry list, hoping that the sobering thoughts of the upcoming daily drudgery will help pull that safety curtain back into place. I quickly run through the mental check-list:
-morning coffee/cigarette
-check email
-take medication
-shower
-go to school
-eat lunch
-take medication
-go to group
-pick up her supplies
-prepare dinner
-eat dinner
-take medication
-watch news
-check email
-go to bed
Simple and clean...strait to the point and easy to follow. I'll pick up something special for her too...been awhile since I've gotten her something...been too long since I've...damn am I thirsty....better get some water. I settle myself back down into bed...secluding myself to an area that isn't emmersed with the cold sensation of my anxiety...next to her. I snuggle up to her back-side...arousal is instant, but fleeting as my mind begins re-organizing and re-emphising the upcoming list of life chores...I drift off into the catatonic stupor of another early morning wasted.