Therapy not going well

It took everything I had not to walk out on Ms. N yesterday. She pulled the same stunt two previous therapists pulled on me. I walked out on them and never went back. She asked if I felt I was getting anything out of our sessions. When I said no, she asked why I keep showing up. I told her because this is what I was supposed to do, go to therapy for my problems. I keep showing up because I hope that some day something clicks and all this makes sense. That I find a reason or a way to save myself.

She said I don't seem very receptive to her suggestions and often tell her I can't do the things she is asking of me. I can't really remember most of the conversation, but my take on the whole thing is that she felt I was wasting her time. That's the impression she was giving me. I started feeling really hopeless, that she wasn't willing to work with me anymore because she felt there was no hope. I wanted to get up and scream at her that if I'm such a lost cause, the next person that tells me I can't kill myself is going to die with me.

I told her from the beginning there were all these roadblocks that needed to be overcome before I could make any progress. We haven't overcome any of them. Hell, we don't even discuss them. She did ask if I ever felt a connection with any of my past therapists or even any past pdocs. I told her no. I have problems relating to people I view as authority figures. T's & pdocs have the ability to have me locked up against my will. She said they don't have that power, that I control whether I get locked up.

Don't these people realize they're working with a defective mind? When it starts telling me that I should harm myself, I don't know whether I'm thinking rationally or not. In the moment it seems like a real and logical thought that I should act on. Just as someone that is hungry will go get some food. She basically told me that I'm smart and should know what is real and what isn't. If only it were that damn simple.

I told her I was trying to do things differently, but having little success. I hadn't had a drink to combat the anxiety in quite awhile, I was taking my meds as prescribed, I hadn't acted on my urges to cut even though I desperately wanted to and that I was trying the distraction stuff. I guess hearing that from me helped her see that there is a part of me that wants to try and she moved on.

Next thing she asked was if there was ever a time or place where I felt truly safe. Took awhile, but I finally said under the dining room table at my grandfather's house. It had a tablecloth that came to about 3 inches above the floor. I'd hide under there and listen to the grown-ups talking in the living room. I felt safe because it was usually dark under there, I was out of everyone's way and to me the table seemed so enormous that I thought even if they wanted to smack me, they'd never be able to reach me.

She asked me to describe what that safety felt like, asked if I remember any smells. Guess she wants me to use this visual when I don't feel safe. Not sure, I don't remember. Then she asks if I have any pictures from when I was a kid and if I'd bring them in. PANIC! Gawd how fast my mind started spinning, questions popping into my head within seconds...Why does she want to see them? Does she want to see if I ever smiled? Does she want to use them as a catalyst for delving into my past? I ended up telling her I was panicking at the thought and that I was too afraid to share them with her.

I cried the whole way home. I just feel so damn lost and don't know where to go, what to do. But apparently everyone thinks I'm smart enough to figure that out. If I haven't figured it out in nearly 25 years what it is I'm supposed to be doing, I can't possibly be as smart as everyone makes me out to be can I?