I am damaged, but not yet broken

My son died this past April. My wife left me last week after telling me that she did not feel my son's death, and so acted as if I had not lost a son. She is not allowing me to have any contact with our two minor children. I am hurt. I am damaged. I cry sometimes, even though many view a man's crying as a sign of weakness. That is okay. I am weak just now. I am confused and I am discouraged. I don't have much hope right now and I am afraid I am losing my faith. But through all of these things, and for the past six years, I have held onto my sobriety. I have not relapsed and drank. I am damaged and I am isolated and have no one to talk with. But, I am not broken. Damaged, but not broken. Somehow, at some point, I will begin to heal again, and I will see those things that make me a special, caring, loving human being, those things my wife chooses not to see -- those things she has convinced our children do not exist within me.
Some day, someone will come into my life who will see those traits that I know are there, but cannot right now see. I believe this. I have to believe this.