Losing Myself Every Morning

Warmth of the blankets keeps me in as the alarming music blares, awaking me from my forceful dreams. A mixture of lost adventure and terrified adrenaline circles in my head as I realize I am moist from sweat. I hear the music that reminds me of the “have-tos” of the day. Turn it off and it will all go away. My eyes close, my breathing softens. Minutes later the snooze is not long enough. If I leave the blankets I might die. The safe, unconscious person, who finally could relax and be me, will be no more when I roll out of that bed. I can’t give it up, I won’t; and the blankets fly over my head as I make the music stop again. All is silence.
The music goes again. I feel as though I was in a fight, exhausted with myself. More tired than the first hint of the forced start of the day. I push snooze again. I can hide for a little longer.
The music goes on again; eventually I roll out of bed and the self I liked before the first alarm is gone and not coming back. I quickly rush to make up for time and become the me I am during the day.