No. Yes. No. I don't know. I do know that my parents loved me, even though that was not something that either of them would ever say. (A neighbour, who was something of a substitute grandmother for me, used to call me älskling which means "darling" or "sweetie", and I remember looking the word up in a dictionary when I was maybe four or five.) But my parents did love me, I just was never good enough, which certainly was no fault of theirs because they supported me as much as anybody could.
But to T, I am a client, I'm his job. He doesn't care about me in any "real" sense - why would he? There is nothing special or memorable about me, not as a therapy client. I'm just a common or garden depression - I have never suffered the horrible traumas that other people on this board have; I am very grateful for that and I don't think I have a fraction of the strength that many of the rest of you display. But if I were my T, which I'm not, I would think deep down that the Mastodon should be dealing with her problems on her own time rather than waste my time with them.