It’s a momentous evening. As well as being the last night of the worst year I’ve known, we are about to come to the end of the Brexit transition period.

I am incandescent with rage and grief at having my European citizenship torn away from me. I have felt this way for four and a half years now and my feelings have only strengthened through time at the irrationality, the injustice, the wilfully ignorant, the pigheaded, exceptionalist, xenophobic idiocy of it all. I haven’t written about it much in the last couple of years because I’m still too incoherent and angry about it to try and put my thoughts together in a rational manner but I felt that I needed to mark this woeful day somehow.

So here it is: on the basis of tiny “advisory” majority in a criminally administered, gerrymandered opinion poll in which no-one knew the implications of their vote, where the people most affected would be denied a voice, we are having our established rights as European citizens ripped away. The most vulnerable people will suffer most. My children have already been driven away from England, unable to see a future for themselves in the face of such a catastrophe. My European friends no longer feel secure in their own homes. The very worst racist, belligerent people are crowing at their perceived victory, pleased to have stuck it to those whom they envy. I cannot see how this is right.

I am being urged to get over it but how can you get over something as immoral as this abomination, based on ignorance and xenophobia? I have never felt so ashamed and embarrassed to be British. I will never forgive the people who voted for this twice. They think Brexit is “done.” It is only just starting. May they live to feel the consequences of their actions.