Thanks for the comments thus far, I appreciate them everyone, they're helpful to me.

Just to comment on this, I had a similar experience a week ago, when the person filling in the for the landlord accidentally thought I wanted to move, so had brought a young couple to visit the apartment. The mixup was understandable and since the apartment was in good shape and neat (I had done the cleaning the day before), I let them in. There was another apartment on rent just like mine so this visit was of use to them.

What took me by surprise was something about the kindness in this young couple and their lovely little girl. Something about how hopeful and happy they looked. They were, despite their unique appearance, just like the pictures in those picture frames, in the spirit, like a happy generous family. The guy had a nice warm voice and apologized and also expressed gratitude at me accommodating them. Despite his accent, his voice felt so familiar to me, like just the kind of voice a father should have. The wife was spending the time looking at the rooms to see which would be best for her daughter, seemed like a picture of caring. There was so much positivity in them I almost forgot it was cold and raining hard outside and the winter chill was coming from under the door.

It made me quite sad though because the familiarity of all this was just a reminder of what I had lost and what I could have had and what I needed.

Yes, that's how it came across to me, as if my T was getting tired and fed-up, that I was not getting better. This discussion had come up before, about me finding a safe place inside me, a place of compassion, so that I won't depend so much on external cues. Which is hard because I grew up in an enmeshed family and also because I'm currently quite isolated. It's easier when you have other good people in your life, to recover and find yourself, than when you're alone.
My shame is really stopping me from stepping out. The years I was not working, not going to school, not doing anything, they're like a "loser" sign shining on my head. Somehow if you say you had PTSD, unless you have gone to war, it seems people think something is deeply wrong with you if other things affected you so badly. But if it's physical illness, people are understanding. So I kind of live in this prison, partly imposed by difficulties of life and partly imposed by myself. And it's hurting me, and I know I need to get out of it before I can let people, loving people, into my life and let myself receive their kindness. But it's so hard.

So in a way I understand my T's frustration. I have okay health and otherwise could do something with my life. I'm wasting it away because of things in the past. And stuck in this place where I go between self-pitying or being numb to everything or being far too open to everything and getting hurt day in and day out. So my T wants me to find an inner place of strength that gets me through it and it's hard because though I intellectually remember a time I could go into myself to recharge and and recover, emotionally I don't remember what that felt like.