I never know what to wear. It’s true. I used to know what to wear, but now I don’t. Ever since I got sick, I don’t know what to wear.
Clothing is more complicated, I guess, than it seems. There’s so many styles. So many colors.
An old friend of mine said that in graduate school he found me attractive in part because I was so put together and dressed well.
It’s all gone down hill from there. I suppose sloppiness of dress is a symptom of schizophrenia and I’ve certainly had that at times.
I thought about this today as I was going through some clothes of mine. It would be nice to find a style that suits me and colors that look good on me once again. I feel like nothing I have fits me. Every time I wear anything, I feel like I’m lying to the world about who I am because there’s nothing that’s really “me.”