My name is David. I'm 44 years old and a father to the two most wonderful human beings I've ever had the privilege to know.

The YouTube video is largely incomprehensible so I apologize in advance, but its a good indicator of just how serious and overwhelming my situation has become. I'm usually far more coherent and frequently hilarious (often deliberately). But after 4 years of struggling to settle in a foreign country to be with my children I have finally lost my ability to laugh at the absurdity of my situation.

4 years ago my Danish ex-fiance and I took the decision to pack up our lives in London and move to Copenhagen to enjoy a calmer, simpler life. It was a big sacrifice, taking the kids away from their friends and grandparents, and no small risk for me, walking away from a career in commercial real estate I had spent several years haphazardly building (selling office space for a living during COVID was not fun), and moving to a foreign country with no network, and no friends or family besides those that I had enjoyed knowing through the children's mother for some years. But I believed it was a risk worth taking for all of us, as I would be there with my life partner to help me integrate and navigate the system while I searched for work (she had a job which she would continue in, just remotely). Also I had my Danish family who I had known and been a part of for almost a decade. In short, the risk was worth it because I was part of a team.

After throwing away 90% of my belongings, walking away from my career and network, saying goodbye to the only home I had ever known beside my childhood home, and contributing my last few thousand pounds to getting us all here and securing a new rented home, things took a turn.

I found it almost impossible to network with Danes, who tend to keep their lives simple and their social circles small, meaning every job I went for had to be applied for online. I struggled to even get responses to the applications I was sending, and discovered that Denmark - especially Copenhagen - is notoriously difficult for foreigners to find work in (apparently "International" families are leaving in their droves for this reason, and there's even a movement to address this issue, with its own hashtag: #theforgottengold).

Having managed to find a part-time job working in fashion retail, I found myself being sexually harassed by the store manager, and despite pressure at home to keep my mouth shut to preserve what little income it brought, following a breakdown in front of my daughter and one particularly egregious incident on the shop floor that left me shaking and unable to serve my next customer I raised a complaint to HR. My accusations were confirmed following an investigation but it was swept under the rug, and having been given no indication whatsoever how they would ensure the harassment stopped I had no choice but to leave.

In the meantime I did everything I could to earn money: manual labour with a family member, admin for a UK friend's business, voiceover work for corporate videos, commission-only business development, all while continuing to apply for an increasingly broad range of roles and industries without success.

During this time I began to realize that I have ADHD, for which I sought and received diagnosis and treatment. This was a continuation of a years-long journey of self discovery and personal growth and growing interest in psychology and neuroscience that began when a girl I barely knew but loved dearly told me she was pregnant, and that I was the father. I have been standing up to that responsibility ever since with a level of seriousness, passion and dedication that I didn't know I was capable of. I had previously decided to not have children, as I understood that parenthood is the ultimate responsibility, and that to fail a child that you bring into the world is the least forgivable act of carelessness imaginable. So when I was told I was to become a father I knew what it meant, and I have dedicated myself to becoming the best parent (or perhaps the least awful parent) I can be, a lifelong vocation and a journey that saw me achieve sobriety after a year in therapy, countless AA meeting and reading every resource I could find on the subject of addiction. I am proud to be able to say that no matter what life has thrown up at me since, I am over 8 years sober.

And so with the realization that I have been trying to operate for 40+ years with an undiagnosed neurological disability, I have spent the last couple of years completely revising my entire life through the lens of this diagnosis, learning everything I can on the subject and embracing the revelation with the same enthusiasm and optimism that I bring to anything that takes me one step closer to understanding and improving myself. (You wouldn't think so from the video, but my optimism and pragmatism when it comes to adversity has been known to both inspire and irritate those around me).

I won't go into detail on my relationship to save our kids from learning about things they deserve to remain ignorant of, but over the first 1.5 years of moving here it became slowly, painfully and terrifyingly obvious that the idea was never for me to be part of our new life here, and once I had contributed my effort, money and consent to get us all here I was no longer required. This period was exceptionally painful and humiliating, to the extent that spending time in that house with my kids now triggers something that sees me having an anxiety attack both on the way there and on the way home to my place. The best words I can find to describe it is that it feels like I'm being poisoned, and the longer I stay the worse it gets.

After 1.5 years I discovered something that meant I had no choice but end the relationship. This was not received well, and there followed 4 months of living out of hotels, couch-surfing and sleeping on strangers' sofas in order to be able to be near the kids. My right to be their father - and their right to have one - was being questioned, our access to one another was being limited and controlled, and my attempts to stay and settle again were seemingly being frustrated and sabotaged. Thank god that moment has passed.

The rest of the journey is as follows:

Despite concerns about officially de-registering my CPR (Danish social security) number from the kids' address which would effectively hand over my equal rights as a parent, and seeing the impact seeing her father homeless was having on my daughter, I found a new place to live - a 1-bedroom apartment the next neighbourhood over. The bedroom is the kids' and I live on a sofabed in the living room/kitchen/dining room. I have turned this small space into a warm, inspiring and memorable childhood home for them. Its colourful, imaginative, and designed to be experienced from a child's perspective. I am proud of what I have achieved in this space, especially given that most of the stuff in it is all found materials that I have upcycled. I try to make sure there is something new and creative and fun in there every time their week with me comes around. They love it, and their joy and excitement when they arrive makes me almost cry every time, and proud of the father I am.

I managed to finally find a full-time job with a company I had been in dialogues with for about a year, and we enjoy our first Christmas in our new home. Its wonderful. I have no words to do just how wonderful justice. And after all the previous drama and fear, and having given up my home in London to find myself squeezed out of my new home in Copenhagen, and after 4 months of not knowing where I was going to sleep each night just to be near my kids, finally I have a home again.

I continue to struggle financially, with the new job barely covering bills. I worry constantly about food and rent, but manage. I'm still not eating properly, existing on homemade protein smoothies every day (not great, but still nutritionally complete, very cheap and enough calories to keep me healthy). During this time we continue the tradition of pancakes for breakfast on the weekends, and invent the new tradition of Friday Night Movie Salad (take a bowl of popcorn, add 3-4 kinds of candy and/or chocolate of your choice, stir, serve). I devour any leftovers as soon as the kids are asleep.

After our first Christmas, I attempt to pick myself back up again now that the drama has subsided. I start working out again, cold-swimming, continuing to learn about my condition, effective treatments, the impact of diet and exercise and sleep on the symptoms. I even start a TikTok channel to speak about what I've learned, share whatever wisdom I've collected about addiction, recovery, health, psychology, positivity and gratitude, in the hope that it might help others out there. I try to pick myself back up again but I just can't. The impact of everything has done damage that I am not equipped to work through and heal alone. Despite being well educated on myself and having always been on top of managing and maintaining my mental health, this one is beyond my abilities. I turn my attention to the neurobiology of grief and trauma. This journey continues but I'll be honest, I'm not walking this one off. Something in me has gone.

Due to my still unaddressed concern over the questioning of my right to be their father, with no formal Visitation Agreement, and with the potential consequences of de-registering my CPR from their Mum's address so catastrophic, I remain registered there, and therefore unable to claim the kinds of welfare benefits the Danes top up their incomes with every month. In Housing Allowance, so far this is about 60,000DKK (circa £6,000) we have missed out on.

I am fired from my job at Christmas time, without warning or formal process, with many questions unanswered in my head. I'm told that if I stick around and facilitate a solid client handover instead of just seeing out all of my notice at home, they will do everything they can to leverage their network to help me find my next job. Being the eternal optimist I am, I see this as an opportunity: for the first time since moving here I now have friends in the business community, and they have a big network. Finally I can actually be introduced to business leaders and hiring managers, and actually meet them in person (during my 25 years in sales in London this is how roles are found and filled).

The offer never materializes, and I am even dis-invited last minute from a networking event for Copenhagen sales leaders that my former employer is hosting.

My final salary from this role was in Spring of this year. I have applied for well over 100 roles since Christmas. I have had 2 interviews: one informed me they were going for a candidate "with new ideas and a fresher perspective on customer service" ("You're too old Boomer and your 25 years experience of leading teams in delivering consistently excellent customer service is out of date"). The other was about two months ago, and my requests for updates have gone unanswered. In the meantime I have been working as a cleaner, cleaning people's homes and other properties, for less than I need to stay afloat, but I do it with enthusiasm, energy and pride. This role is no longer available due to the company shutting down. I have been on the waiting list to be a food delivery driver for nearly a year now (that's correct: the reality of the employment market for foreigners here is so bad that there are now too many food delivery drivers on the road, so they're operating a one in/one out system).

Fast-forward to today: I am about to be 2 months behind in rent, and face eviction any moment from the home I had hoped to grow old in, having revised my dreams and ambitions for the rest of my life somewhat in line with my circumstances. In order to keep the roof over our heads I have had to prioritize bills, and as such, our electricity has been shut off (about an hour before my last job interview, as I sat on my laptop doing some last-minute prep. Turns out Fate is hilarious too). Despite the outstanding amount being within my ability to pay at the time of being cut off, in order to reconnect me and to cover several different types of fees and a deposit they now require, they asked for over 3x the outstanding sum. With no foreseeable income, and not having this amount of money, I remain without power 4 weeks later.

This latest challenge has check-mated me. I can't store food, or cook it. I have a warm fridge full of rotting food that I'm afraid to look inside and an aquarium full of dead fish.I have no TV or internet or heating. Despite doing the best I could to dress the place in fairy lights, with plans to make it magical for the kids, using all the house plants and forest sound effects and a battery-operated star projector like we're camping under the stairs, I had to be honest with myself and accept that our home is not currently fit for children. They have been staying with their mother ever since.

Having fought for so long just to get to where we are now, I can no longer provide a home for my children. I spend time with them instead at their Mum's house, ignoring the poisoning sensation and my screaming amygdala for as long as I can endure just to be with them. As I left there a few nights ago my son came to his bedroom window as I was getting on my bike. He is taking not being able to stay with me particularly hard, and my heart is broken by the knowledge that I have broken his. He offers me some coins from his piggybank and desperately pleads with me to take him with me, saying "Its okay now Daddy, I have some money so we can stay with you again".

This was the worst moment of my life. There have been many since I made the mistake of moving to Denmark, but this one has collapsed me.

The fear, the anxiety, the ADHD mixed with the cPTSD I am told I have, the malnutrition, and sleeplessness, the 4 years of constant rejection, the total devaluation of Me as a thing of worth, the endless punishment of Hope, the shocking chasm between who I was before and who I am now, and the slow-motion heartbreak of failing my children, these things have left me broken. I just want to continue the pursuit of happiness, so I can teach my children how to be happy. And I want to have a home. Just a little space that's warm secure and predictable, the home I have made for me and my children in the rubble of what was our old one.

But being the idiot optimist that I am, even when sitting alone in the dark amongst battery-powered camp lights, I'm dreaming and planning. After 4 years the data doesn't lie. If Denmark won't employ me I will employ myself. Not enough jobs for Internationals here? Fine. We'll make our own.

If I start going into what I have in mind you will be reading this all night, so I will try to describe and outline the plan in more (hopefully shorter, and less incoherent) videos over the next few days. But it involves doubling down on the creativity I forgot I had when I dropped out of art college 25 years ago to create a space for the chronically under-serviced demographic of Internationals here, the invisible families unable to fully participate in the life of the Happiest People On Earth. It involves turning the tonnes of perfectly good household items people throw away here every week into new things of value, teaching those that want to how to create, how to see the possibility of what could be in the pile of broken parts, learn how to work with their hands ahead of the Age of AI, giving them opportunities to restore their dignity, earn money and remember that they're part of a community even when they feel alone. And thanks to an extremely nice Dane who gave me an hour of his time for a coffee, who is in the Social Impact investment space, and who seems to believe in the idea I described to him, I have an opportunity to pitch this idea to his network of investors, who are looking for social impact enterprises to help launch.

I can see a future and a place for me here in Copenhagen, a way for me create an income for myself and my kids, and a way to help other people like me as I help myself. I worry its too late though. If I am evicted, I will leave owing rent, plus 3 months notice. I will owe other bills that I can't pay. This has serious consequences in Denmark, and will make it impossible for me to rent another home. Going back to the UK for a while - whilst it sounds like a solution - is out of the question, as it will actually reduce my chances of being able to settle in Denmark and father my children. The outstanding bills will fester, I will lose my current visa, it will take probably 1.5-2 years separated from my kids while I search for a job in London and save up enough money to return to Copenhagen, where I won't be able to rent a new home due to the outstanding money owed on the previous one, and I'll be right back into the doom loop of looking for a job in Denmark. Except with the toll on the mental health of me and my children from having to be apart for so long. They have suffered enough and deserve better, and to be honest I don't think I would recover from that either. And this is all assuming I am granted a new visa and the right to return as their father, having been absent from their lives for such a period. It wouldn't take much for someone who doesn't wish me to ever return to Denmark to persuade the Family Court that I'm an absent father who has abandoned his children.

So all that's left is to fight on and try to set myself up as my own employer, and do whatever job comes along to earn money to help.

To be clear, I am right on the precipice. I need to get my electricity back on and up to date, so I can cook and wash and use the internet and live like a human being again. I need to get the rent paid and up to date. If I can do these, I can once again provide my kids with a warm, safe and secure home environment, we can be together again, and I can return to actually taking care of them, rather than just "visit" them.

If I can get the rent and bills covered for a while I will be able to see a future again and work towards it, instead of being unable to see or plan for anything past the next bill or rent day or grocery shop. And I can start eating again, proper food, actual meals, and return to cooking, a passion I have had to let go of since moving here. And with proper food I can start training again, swimming again, and get back to the fit, healthy, disciplined person I haven't been since the beginning of all this upheaval. And with all of this I will be able to think straight, and sustain the consistent optimism that I used to have and that has carried me so far, and pursue this idea for making a place for myself in Denmark. And most importantly I can once again be a positive role model for my children, instead of the deflated, undignified, feral shadow of their father they have had to witness these last few weeks.

But if I can't, and I am evicted (any day now - I'm amazed they haven't already come knocking), then it is all over. And I wish I was exaggerating when I say that, but I am not.

I'm sorry for the length of this, and the video that accompanies it. I am sorry that it has come to this: begging for money from strangers on the internet when everyone is struggling at the moment. It feels like things have been hard and getting harder everywhere and for everyone since 2008. And my difficulties compared to those who are really suffering in the world right now make me ashamed to even put my hand up. But I don't know what else to do. I have come as far as I can, and those that have helped me along the way have done all they can.

So if you can, please donate whatever you can spare. And if you can't, I understand and I thank you for reading this far. But whichever you are, please share this with your friends, families and networks. It will help.

On behalf of me and my daughter and son, thank you.