There and back again

The last year has been an the hardest in my life. I have fought every little bit of it, trying to stay in above water, but it just keeps on giving. There are light moments, but they are like candles in a grey foggy forest, no colour or shadows, and don't last long enough to give me hope. I have realised how fragile life is. How vulnerable we all are, how we live on a woollen thread, laying out a new direction every moment, even in our sleep. The thread gets stuck, tangled up with other threads. It gets coloured, ripped and muddled. Even looping around itself to create knots that you have to leave behind. There is no stopping this, it's the inner workings of yourself, every cell in your body taking part in laying it out. You can look behind you and see where you have been, but not clearly for very long, because light and distance make it fade. Your glasses might fog up, and it becomes distorted. You pass other threads, some thick and straight, some light and wispy, and some colo...

A year ago, I didn't understand what was happening inside me. I knew something was wrong and I had known for a very long time, just not what. Now I have some understanding and words around it, and more self insight. That doesn't make it easier to carry, but it makes it possible to explain. I am 51. I have ADHD, BPD, major depression and alcohol use disorder diagnosis. And I have two kids, 15 and 17, who live a five minute walk from me — and who I am not allowed to see. That is where the pain lives. There is a term for what I am experiencing: parental alienation. When children are gradually isolated from a parent, from grandparents, from people who love them. Love with nowhere to go. And the body knows, even when the mind tries to stay calm. I wake up at four every morning with my heart pounding and crushing feelings of guilt, dread and stress. An inner tension I have never experienced before. On guard from the moment I open my eyes to the moment I close them again. And still, I...