With my first therapist for PTSD I became too dependent, so much so, one day I saw her out with her daughter and became so jealous that I couldn't think straight, and didn't want to see her for sessions the next week (sessions were 3X wk). As far as I was concerned, she was my "mom", and right then I knew I was heading for trouble.

I didn't love her as much as I craved her as a mother. She was the mother I never had, someone who finally listened to me and someone finally who didn't yell. But I became so ill, went into a deep depression, she was way over her head treating me for PTSD that we parted therapy. It can be an unhealthy relationship, but when you are so needy for love and empathy you never as a child, it feels so comforting when someone reaches out to you with interest asking you to tell them more.