I'm not sure if I understand the apartment metaphor. It's very poetic though
I'll try to pretend I understand. Leaving the apartment is an impossibility in that state. There's such a profound sense of pain and loss (speaking from my own experience). Especially if you've been in denial in the past regarding the extent in which you've become wounded and damaged. It's hard to connect with the world because all you end up doing is reliving the memories, experiencing the pain, reliving the memories, feeling sad, feeling angry. You become caught up in it. It cycles over and over again til you're dizzy and there's no escape. You try to comprehend it through your internal dialogue but all you hear are echoes. You need validation to heal. You need others to hear you. You need others to hear your pain. And many people just don't give a shit! Those who do seem to care, don't understand. It seems that no one understands the hell you've been through. But still, you need them to hear the pain. And it's not pretty and it's not fun. Yet, you need someone to hear. It seems selfish because it's your life not theirs. Why should they feel your pain? But why the hell not? YOU felt the pain, the pain THEY feel for you could not even come close to the pain you experienced. Besides, these so called friends don't really understand anyways. So, as we're all exchanging stories about our wonderful childhoods and it's now your turn, you reply: "No I didn't have the idyllic childhood. Unlike you, I don't have relatives in San Diego. We don't go visiting every Christmas. In fact, I don't even know where they live because I don't talk to them anymore. (That's great as a conversational stopper). *mouths drop* Really. No one really wants to hear the truth. You're better making up some bullshit story.
I think your friend was probably so full of emotions and processing things from her past that she needed to release them in a safe environment.
Was she in therapy at the time? I remember being in a phase where I did that a bit. Or I suffered in silence, but was so good at "acting" (coming across as sooo together) that no one knew. It was good, BTW, that she had good friends like you to talk to, otherwise, it could have been potentially dangerous. In my case, I realized it wasn't fair to have my friends carry that burden. I went into therapy which helped immensely. My relationship with my friends improved and became healthier as a result.
You're a natural - therapist. It's a good theory. In my case, I wouldn't say that was the case. I am a One, however, in part, due to my childhood upbringing, I think. Superego is strong. Constant dialogue with the inner critic. Need to feel in control. Control is maintained through the mind and withholding emotions. This all develops because there is too much chaos and emotions in the environment. Control needs to come from within. Things need to make sense because nothing makes sense. If nothing makes sense, I will go insane. But I wouldn't say that I felt that was all I had to share with others because during childhood I didn't associate with what was happening to me. I disassociated. That doesn't mean I didn't feel pain. But I didn't share it with others. Only later, removed from the situation, having left home could I really start processing any of it.