I went full metal neurotic on my T. Being the mess that I am, I decided I needed reassurance that I wasn't a total f**up. My T, naturally, didn't answer me directly; instead she asked why it was important for me to know her opinion. Nevertheless, I persisted, asking a bit more directly. She hesitated again, then told me an anecdote about TFUism. I took the hint, and decided not to ask again.

Except I couldn't stop perseverating on it. I ruminated all week. It's like I had an unrelenting need to hear from my T that I wasn't a hot mess. So I brought it up again. This time, I asked her directly if I was broken. And there was silence. A long, awkward silence. A silence that was so long that I even started to laugh. And then cry.

And finally, she said that the idea of being broken was "my perception". And that her delay in response was because she was thinking about how to respond to "my perception" that I was broken. And that there was no way to know if I would ever get better.

Now, I'm in full blown neurotic meltdown. I can't stop thinking about it. Would it have been the worst thing in the world for my T to say that I'm not a total loser? And why do I have this insane need for reassurance?

I am so ashamed of myself. I'm a grown woman, and I'm literally begging my T to throw me a kibble of hope. Not just once, but three times. I'm pathetic. And obviously way too histrionic and dramatic.

I'm rethinking this whole therapy thing. Maybe I'm too neurotic for therapy?