I'm not sure if I'm welcome with this kind of advice, but you've been very supportive on one of my posts, so here goes.
Last summer I was experiencing near death fun. My apartment turned into a rotting pit. I'm not even exaggerating, the trash piles were everywhere. There are still stains on the floor from the rotten mess I've let sit for months.
That was also the time when I stepped on the glass shard. I've been drinking hard liquor every day, bottles piled up, eventually one fell and broke down into pieces. I didn't care for my wound for a week, it got infected.
And then the cockroaches showed up. I started seeing a couple every day. Killed them, but they kept appearing. And that's when I understood that my carefully structured facade is falling. In a few weeks, the roaches would reach my neighbours, they would start an investigation. Eventually everyone's gonna know what I am. And that realisation brought me back. That I didn't want anyone to know the truth.
It took me a few days of work to clean everything up. I'm still dealing with the stains on the fucking floor. Combing my tangled hair for the first time in months was a nightmare and I dreaded to find a roach in there. But I made it all work.
I can't say I'm squeaky clean now, but it's decent. The thought of my reputation really motivated me. Maybe my story will help you somehow.