I held my children, one on each side of me, and willed all my love to filter into them so that they would know that I would never let them go entirely. You took Laura first, huge tears spilling as you picked her up, and she looked at me over your shoulder. As you got near the door she started to cry and kick, but you held her firmly.

While you were putting her in your car, Charlie held my face and kissed it. Don’t worry, Mummy. That’s what he said. We’ll come back for you. You won’t be on your own.

You came back and took him by the hand. He resisted and you picked him up as he punched you and kicked you and shouted, Bye, Mummy. Don’t worry, Mummy.

Then you were gone. I ran up to the top of the stairs and watched as you struggled with Charlie. He was still punching you as you strapped on his seat belt. I could see them both sobbing, looking up at the house. Looking for me.

I hid behind the curtain so that I didn’t make it any worse. Then I slumped onto the floor and cried and cried. It’s hard to explain what happened next. Something inside me shifted and I lay on the landing for a full day and night.

When I did eventually get up, I was different. Or I might have always been like this but it was covered by my idealistic life. I don’t know. Something had drastically changed and I was a more visceral version of me. The love was stronger, the pain was deeper and the hate was keener.

Every time I closed my eyes I saw my son’s little worried face, telling me not to worry. My daughter crying and screaming. I retreated into a world where it would no longer matter if I expressed my feelings. Howling, crying, vomiting. Pushing the boundaries of my sanity.

You’d left some clothes at home. Lot of clothes. I spent days cutting them into tiny pieces. I took your beloved vinyl and scratched them all up with a school compass. Then I stamped on the pieces. Then I took a hammer to them and ground those records until they were almost powder.

As an undergraduate I read about people who put on a mask all day then cried all the time they were alone. I queried this, naively asking what could be so bad that this would continue for years. But that was before I had my children ripped from me by someone who was supposed to care about me and them.