today went rather badly

Well, actually, it started out reasonably well. But then my little one decided to take a keyboard from the library belonging to my father and snip the cord with her toy scissors.As I write this, it sounds funny and charming. But it was not funny at the time.
This one incident made me feel so trapped in my circumstances.It made me feel hopeless in my hopes. Why? The repercussions of the event. The instant arguing over the matter by the people I live with who are my parents. Certainly they have all right to complain when their grandchild does something naughty. But in this instance, rightly or wrongly, their daughter gets criticized as though she too is the same age as her child.
But of course this 'bad' day is bigger than this moment. I hated having to call my ex-husband up and complain about what happened. I would have called Richard up, and we would have talked about it, and I would have felt better or at least had someone I love, and know, loves me so unconditionally, just be there.
Now I don't have that anymore.
Perhaps this is why I felt so deeply pained by this today.The loss keeps coming back in unexpected crevices of my life!
I want to move forward, and yet every move I make feels heavy with regret and hurt.
I was so emotional today that I said that the decision to curl up in a ball and die is one that I cannot afford to make. I felt so very low. I felt as though absolutely nothing I have worked for has worked out for me. I felt unloved, unliked, uncared for. I felt as though everything I am has been stripped away from me, and every move forward is sceptically plotted to be on shaky ground.
It got so bad that I had to sit in my stillness and will myself better.
I said to my ex, imagine that you caused me to be in this house, experiencing things I do not choose and all I can do at this time is to speak to you, the perpetrator, how pathetic is that!
At least he allowed me my bile. He allowed me to cry out and weep in my words, and I am grateful.
I step forward, and out of myself tonight, out of this tissue of pain, aware that it is but a layer.
I admit the lack of beauty of it all, and I make no guarantees to myself, but to say, I am surviving.