Rebuilding it is like baking a cake, or pulling together crumbs to make a cake.
But every time I look like I'm succeeding and the cake is looking tasty, he sneaks along and pours vinegar over it.
Lily and I have had a wonderful reprieve; no contact for three weeks.
Her eczema is finally cleared up, she's full of jokes and pranks - but I swear if she puts that whoopee cushion under my dining chair seat pad one more time I'll have a heart attack!
My lovely lawyer got in touch to clarify one part of this mud-slinging letter his lawyers sent. she asked me if I'd ever attempted suicide.
OK,WHAT THE FCUK?!
So let me tell you a back story, one of love and support and a gift of strength.
When Claude was suicidal, I tried to normalize that feeling for him - he was really low and freaked out by his own obsession with hopelessness.
I told him everyone feels like that at some time in their lives, that it's all too much to bear.
I told him when I was in my early twenties, I'd had thoughts like that; my six month marriage had just broken up, my father had slammed a door on me after telling me; I wasn't his daughter anymore (for a Daddy's girl that was a huge blow). My friends turned their backs on me following a smear campaign coming from my ex. And despite being accused of 'taking the lot'; I had pretty much nothing and I was skint.
I told my husband, my best friend, this story so that he wouldn't feel alone in his grief.
So he would understand that I got it.
I told him that in my experience it is in these moments that you really find yourself and learn to like yourself despite what anyone else thinks or says about you.
Overcoming these defeatist thoughts and taking the decision not to fade away into nothing, makes you impossibly strong.
That was my message to Claude. You will find your way through this and it will make you stronger and I understand and I'm here with you. I will hold you up until you feel strong enough to stand alone again.
I was good to my word.
Now Claude is using this very personal story, offered to him out of love, as a weapon for my destruction. Through his lawyers he's trying to paint me as a depressed and unstable person who has been suicidal for years.
He's a terrific guy.
Terrifically twisted and cruel.
I ended up at a party the night Claude would have, anyone who'll listen, believe that I 'attempted my own life'.
He's more melodramatic in his forties than I ever was in my twenties. Not even my flatmate then, family, nobody at all would corroborate his spin on this.
For the record; I'm sure I was pretty melodramatic in my early twenties; but my point was sincere about pulling yourself out of a whatever hole you find yourself in because, you alone are all you need and you alone are worth the effort of picking yourself up and dusting yourself off.
If this whole horrid saga has taught me one thing it is this;
In the face of this level of adversity, there's just no other option but roll up your sleeves, knock off the pity party and get on with fighting your way out of it.
I tried to hold his hand guide him down a better happier path, but I guess he was too far gone. He chose what he thought was an easier path in denial.
Everyone makes their choices and I've made mine: Not just to survive, but to thrive.
I had my meeting this afternoon with our Parenting Mediator, she says that given his mental health issues and recent events involving Lily, unless Claude shows up to his meeting admitting he has issues and clearly prepared to address them, the Joint Mediation & Parenting process wont go ahead.
She said if he comes in all charming and wounded (she said she's seen quite a bit of that) and if he's pointing the finger accusing me of being unstable, self harming and suicidal, then we'll be signed off to go through the family courts.
She asked me what would be my dream outcome.
I told her the former option: that Claude faces his need of effective treatment, he has it, and he becomes stable enough to start rebuilding Lily's trust.
That we all find our way back to where we were at the end of last year.
Happy incident free sleepovers with dad, amicable, co-operative co-parenting.
The mediator is not optimistic.
I'm not either.