You're trapped in an endless loop of your own making. Every door leads to another door, which leads to another door. The walls are closing in, but not in a dramatic, "The Shire" kind of way. More like a slow, crushing weight of existential dread.
You try to escape by solving puzzles, but they're just cleverly disguised as chores. Laundry, taxes, and that one relative you never talk to on holidays. The more you think you're getting free, the more you realize you're just trading one prison for another.
You've been trapped here for weeks/months/years. Time loses all meaning. Your hair grows long. So does your waistline.