New Breakthrough in Counseling

I had a counseling session yesterday. I told my counselor that I'd had a meltdown and a bit about it, but I really didn't want to talk about it, so I started spacing out and said 'my vision's going strange'. She asked me what I meant and I explained that it was all fuzzing over except what I was looking at, which became very clear (it was a basket underneath a chair). I told her that tended to happen when I was upset. Then I said that I felt like I was being pressured to talk about my meltdown even though I didn't want to. This is the first time I've been able to say no to this sort of thing, to say that I don't feel comfortable discussing my bad behavior with a relative stranger. Before, I always just pushed that discomfort down because 'you're supposed to tell your counselor things like this' and also because I'd learnt that not talking about bad things was dangerous.
Then we discussed how I felt counseling wasn't really helping me very much, and how I felt it was too verbal. She suggested writing nice things about myself on rocks so I could handle them when I was upset. I said I wasn't sure that would help, then got the idea to get my younger brother (who was in the waiting room because he'd decided to accompany me) to write stuff on the rocks. He happily did that (partly because he was bored in the waiting room). So then I had a collection of rocks with things like 'nice' and 'good freind' (that's how he spelt it) and 'observant' written on them.
Later that evening, at home, I got into an argument with my brother and had a slight meltdown because I felt like he didn't care about me. My mother coaxed him off to have a bath and meanwhile my father gave me a container for my rocks because the bag I'd been given for them had broken. I started rubbing each one to warm it and then putting it in the container.
The first few I put in, but I found a couple I disagreed with and set them aside, thinking I might do something with them later. A few rocks later, I decided to put the ones I thought weren't wrong in the container, and with the others, work on convincing myself until I felt I could put them in the container.
Mostly, they were all things like 'nice', 'kind', etc, except for 'truthful'. Anyway, I asked my father to tell me ways I fit those when I couldn't think of any myself. By the time I'd gotten them all in, I felt much calmer. (Then I stood up and one I'd overlooked, 'careful', fell off my lap. That was funny.)
Anyway, the big breakthrough was that I found a way of dealing with my feeling of not being cared about in a way that fits my mind, though it may not be standard therapy. I also broke another rule I had that wasn't good for me.