I admit it: I stopped wearing makeup around the end of week one. Not even mascara.

When I look in the mirror, I see a vacancy. Nobody’s home. My eyelashes seem to have shrunk, there are gaps in my eyebrows and a few greys, dark circles, patchy skin, fading pink hair. I feel disappeared.

It’s not as though I don’t know all this – that’s why I wear make up, to feel… less vacant, maybe.

But between that and wearing leggings as pants, I don’t know what’s happening!

Am I becoming more relaxed, or have I just given up. They feel the same to me, right now.

That said, I know I haven’t given up entirely. A few days after arriving, I walked out of my room to get night meds and my cardigan was on inside out. I knew it was when I left my room. And someone even told me about it but I just grunted.

Tonight, as I was leaving my room, realising my cardi was on inside out, I stopped and sorted it it out. Feeling a little more like the old me, I suppose.