Work Text:
It started as a gradual thing at first. Skipping meals when he got busy. Eating less when he ate because he had work to do. When he moved out on his own it got a little better. It had to, of course, he had kids to take care of. He didn't see them everyday, mostly on weekends, but it was something to keep him going. But, something came up. They didn't come over. But that was fine, right? It was just that once. But then it happened again. Stress got to him. His depression got worse. He'd smile and tell others it was fine.
He took a day off of work, trying to get himself in order. It didn't help. He drank himself in a stupor. After that he felt worse. Things were starting to feel useless. He'd tried so hard. Maybe he just had to try harder. Prove himself. Work more. So he did. He worked more and started to eat less. There wasn't enough time. He saw his kids again. It didn't last long.
Everything started to fall apart. It had been months. He'd tried calling. Got in arguments. Couldn't see them again. Ate less, spent more time in bed or aimlessly at home. Went to work, laughed off his problems as they got worse. Went a day without eating. Said he ate before he come in. Then it happened again. Said he wasn't hungry. He'd eat later he said. Then didn't.
He took time away from work. Spent most of it in bed. Didn't eat. Barely drank. There wasn't any point. He did all he could but for what? It's been months since he'd had his kids. But he knew it wasn't good. He tried again. Went to work. Ate a little. Drank more water. But then he ran out of easy food. Didn't feel like getting more. Took more time away from work. Didn't eat. Didn't have the energy to do much and when he did he felt dizzy.
One day without food and staying home turned to two. His phone rang. He glanced at it. It was one of his friends. That only made him feel worse. He hadn't contacted them in so long... He didn't answer. Didn't listen to the voice-mail. Then the second day turned to the third. His phone again. It was the same person from the day before. Didn't answer. He went to the bathroom. Then passed out on his way back to his room. Woke to the sound of knocking on the door. He was disoriented. Tried to call out but it was barely louder than a whisper. He hadn't drank that day. He wasn't well. And for the first time in months he felt afraid of how far he'd fallen.