Going against the principles

I can feel it breathing down my neck. The inviting warmth of air exhaled from the lungs of death. Whispering that it's okay to take its hand and let go of life. My heart tells me it's not an option. Unfortunately, my head tells me there is no fight left. I'm so tired...physically, mentally, emotionally. Most days I drive the kiddie to wherever it is she needs to be and then collapse back into bed until I need to pick her up and take her someplace else. Occasionally I venture onto the internet, but just sit here and don't really do much of anything.

They all think I'm just sick with the flu and exhausted from that. They can't comprehend the battle raging within. What I want vs. what I can't have. Life vs. death. The lonely soul trapped between the two. The physical illness is just a manifestation of the far more devastating mental one consuming me cell by cell.

My therapist knows I'm slipping further and further into darkness, yet even she is clueless as to how to help. She finally admitted that conventional therapies aren't working for me. That everything I've been told so far by the mental health professionals, including herself, has only done further damage. It's stripped me of what coping skills I had, albeit their negativity; but hasn't replaced them with anything else that helps me get through the roughest of days.

She wants me to list the negative coping skills I used to use. Wants to review them and give me her approval to go ahead with the least harmful of the bunch if that's what it takes to help me sustain life. Fucked up huh? Therapy has been reduced to "better to cope negatively than to not cope at all". As screwy as that concept may be, as against the principles of therapy it may run, it will probably work better than anything else we've tried...if it doesn't generate further thoughts of hopelessness and helplessness first.