Therapist and me

What my therapist told me today-

The world will tell you a thousand things not to be but not what to be. The thing which eats you from inside is self pity. You did not choose to be emotional. It's the way you are. Wear it like an armour
When I came back I penned down this-

What does my therapist do?
listen to my twisted tales,
disrobe me,
and then,
locks me in this world naked.
In this cruel and cold world,
world which is too real.
No, no.
Give me my robe back,
let me live in my imagination,
where I pen down an elegy,
for my mother's death ceremony.
Meanwhile she examines my robe,
She calls me an extremist,
So I am,
I sit at nook of my room,
my eyes roll all across the cell,
I feel the wind from window
And I wonder about all possibilities 
If I jump from window,
will wind save me?
or it just is an element of atmosphere
with no metaphoric meaning.
I pity my therapist now.
She feeds me love,
and I vomit self-respect
She attempts to disrobe me
but I have other robes too
You see,
My mind is a bottomless pit,
I have a million things left unsaid.
She is dealing with a stubborn heart,
lost in quest to discover herself.
She is dealing with a hurricane,
who wears an innocent face.