You don't need a degree in fashion to fit in in rehab....Because everyone looks the same in there. Tracksuits and hoodies by day, Pj's and hoodies by night.
We were one huge "blind date from hell" fest. Styled by W*therspoons and the stuff that J*remy Kyles wet dreams are made of.
We all looked rough as rats.
Because you're not out to impress anyone in rehab. Or meet the love of your life.... You're too busy trying to get well. And so for a girl like me who normally won't leave the house unless I'm mascared up to the max, not having to make the effort for a while was liberating.
The first few days I was in there, I did do the works.....habit more than anything. But then I realised that it would be much more productive to grab an extra half an hour in bed every morning, and rock up to morning check-in looking like a garbage pail kid like everyone else, than faff about trying to get my eyeliner straight for a bunch of people who actually didn't give a rats ass what i looked like.
And so I ditched the make-up...
And looked at myself in the mirror.
Actually, really looked at my reflection.
The actual bare bones of me. No blusher, mascara or lipgloss.
And I liked it......I felt liberated for the first time in years.
So that's how I rolled 24/7. Just me, as I was. And people either liked me or they didn't. I didn't care what they thought. It was as simple as that. I wasn't there to make friends. I had an addiction to get rid of. My aim was to get well in the quickest time possible and then get the fuck out of there pronto.
But I did make friends. Some really bloody good ones. Because rehab is hard. And you need mates around you for moral support. On the days that are crap and you don't want to get out of bed, or when one of your friends goes into town and then doesn't come back.....because they ended up scoring and now they are dead.
You bond with people in there. You forge solid, unbreakable bonds. Because in rehab, until you are fixed, you actually only have that day to play with and you don't want to waste it...So there's no place in there for bullshit and bravado, because people haven't got the time or the energy to waste on licking peoples arses and pandering to egos. The clock is ticking and there's more important stuff to do.
Like staying alive and stuff.
In total I spent four months living in tracksuit bottoms and oversized jumpers.
With crazy hair and no make up on.
While I made the transition from Caterpillar into Butterfly.
And now, rehab is behind me and hoodies and tracksuit bottoms are a thing of the past.
Mascared eyes shine and lipglossed lips pout and smile for the camera as I mess around with Snapchat with my friends....
I wear nice clothes and my perfume is Chanel.
And the photos are brilliant. They are all over my bedroom wall.
Making up for four years of no photographs at all.
The four years when I was ugly and ill and depressed.
So these photos are important to me. And in them, I'm happy and I'm smiling and I'm beautiful again.
But that girl back in rehab was stunning.
Because she realised in there that she didn't need bunny rabbit ears, or animal faces or filters to hide behind.
Her beauty was within. And it shone out from her like a beacon.
Even when she was on her knees and at her worst.
Because this girl was something else.
She was the whole shebang.
She was loving, she was loyal, she was funny and she was kind.
And everyone around her saw it and loved her for it.
Exactly as she was.
With Not a mascara wand or a hairbrush in sight.