still a mess

Recently, I stopped bothering to clean myself up. It's just not worth the effort. They get me as I am--lately that means looking a mess, all slapdash and unkempt.

Before, I'd made every effort to appear presentable for every meeting, however trivial. I made sure my hair was neat, my suit pressed. I made sure I slept well. I made sure my skin was healthy and clear, ate well, took care of myself. I practised my smile in the mirror, trained out the crooked tendencies. And I looked good. I regularly got compliments, backhanded and otherwise.

Things started getting tight. It was a little much to make sure I ate well and got to bed on time and look after my complexion all the time. I tried to cling to the routine, but it became impractical as stress took its toll. A few people noticed, asked if I was sleeping well. I got fewer compliments. But at least I managed to keep my suits clean and pressed, my hair neat.

As things continued to decline, and my company started layoffs, my workload picked up and I had less time and less drive to do anything outside of work. I still tried, but I slipped sometimes. People knew I'd been working hard and mostly just left me alone.

Eventually, I just snapped and stopped caring entirely. I'd come undone. I wasn't sleeping anymore, and I ate whatever I could when I could get it. And my personal life, such as it was, was coming unraveling. I spent more and more nights out, usually wasted in at least one sense of the word, and the mornings would come too soon and I'd drag myself in.

Sometimes I feel like I'm finally honest.