AI Therapy Chatbots: I Tried Them for 3 Months and Here's What Actually Happened

I was having a rough week in October when a friend sent me a link to an AI therapy chatbot. "Just try it," she said. "I've been using it for a month and it actually helps." I was skeptical—I mean, a robot therapist? How could an algorithm possibly understand the mess of anxiety, work stress, and relationship issues I was dealing with?

But at 11 PM on a Tuesday, when my actual therapist wasn't available and I was spiraling, I figured I had nothing to lose. I opened the app and typed: "I'm feeling overwhelmed and I don't know what to do."

What happened next surprised me. The AI didn't give me generic platitudes or robotic responses. It asked thoughtful follow-up questions, helped me break down what I was feeling, and guided me through a breathing exercise that actually helped. It wasn't the same as talking to my human therapist, but it was something when I needed something.

That was three months ago. Since then, I've used AI therapy chatbots regularly, tested five different platforms, talked to mental health professionals about them, and thought deeply about what they can and can't do. This article is my honest account of that experience—the good, the awkward, the surprisingly helpful, and the genuinely concerning aspects of letting AI into your mental health care.

What Are AI Therapy Chatbots?

Let me start with what we're actually talking about, because there's confusion about what these tools are and aren't.

AI therapy chatbots are applications powered by artificial intelligence that provide mental health support through text conversations. They use natural language processing and machine learning to understand what you're saying, respond empathetically, and guide you through therapeutic techniques. Think of them as mental health apps that you can talk to conversationally rather than just tracking moods or offering meditation recordings.

The important distinction is that most of these tools explicitly state they don't provide "therapy" in the clinical sense. They're positioned as mental health support, wellness tools, or therapeutic companions rather than replacements for licensed therapists. This isn't just legal cover—it's an important practical distinction about what these tools can and should be used for.

The technology behind them varies. Some use relatively simple rule-based systems with scripted responses. Others use advanced large language models like GPT-4 or specialized mental health AI trained on therapy transcripts and psychological research. The quality difference between these approaches is enormous—sophisticated AI chatbots can have surprisingly natural, helpful conversations while simpler ones feel frustratingly robotic.

Several major platforms have emerged in this space over the past few years. Woebot uses cognitive behavioral therapy principles and has been studied in clinical research. Wysa offers AI conversations combined with human coaching options. Replika started as a companion chatbot and added mental health features. Youper focuses on mood tracking with AI conversations. And there are dozens of others with different approaches and specializations.

The growth in this category has been explosive. Mental health apps were already growing before COVID, but the pandemic accelerated adoption dramatically. Millions of people now use AI therapy chatbots regularly, many alongside traditional therapy and many as their only form of mental health support.

My Testing Process: Five Apps, Three Months

I wanted to understand these tools through actual use rather than just reading about them, so I committed to testing them seriously. I chose five different AI therapy chatbots representing different approaches and price points, used each one regularly for at least two weeks, and compared them across various situations and mental health challenges.

The apps I tested were Woebot, which is based on cognitive behavioral therapy and has clinical research backing; Wysa, which combines AI chat with optional human therapist access; Youper, which emphasizes mood tracking alongside conversations; Replika, which started as a general companion chatbot with mental health features added; and Earkick, which focuses on anxiety and stress specifically.

I used them in different scenarios to understand when they were helpful and when they fell short. During anxiety spirals at night when human support wasn't available, they provided immediate access to coping techniques. For processing daily stressors and work frustrations, they offered a judgment-free space to vent and organize thoughts. When dealing with relationship conflicts, I used them to explore my feelings before difficult conversations. For general mental health maintenance and check-ins, they provided consistent support between therapy sessions.

I also deliberately pushed boundaries to find limitations. I discussed serious topics to see how they handled crisis situations. I tried to confuse them with complex emotional situations. I tested whether they could recognize when issues were beyond their scope. I wanted to understand not just what they do well but where they break down or become unhelpful.

What Actually Worked: The Surprising Benefits

Let me start with what genuinely helped, because I was surprised by how useful these tools can be in the right context.

The immediate availability mattered more than I expected. Mental health crises don't happen during business hours. Anxiety attacks come at 2 AM. Depressive thoughts spiral on weekends. Relationship conflicts happen when therapists' offices are closed. Having something to turn to in those moments—even if it's not perfect—provided real comfort and practical help.

I had a panic attack on a Saturday night when my therapist was unreachable and friends were asleep. I opened Woebot and it walked me through grounding exercises, helped me identify cognitive distortions fueling the panic, and provided breathing techniques that actually calmed me down. It wasn't the same as human support, but it was infinitely better than spiraling alone or doom-scrolling social media.

The non-judgmental space these chatbots provide is weirdly liberating. You can say absolutely anything without fear of being judged, disappointing someone, or burdening them with your problems. This removed a barrier I didn't fully realize existed in my human relationships.

I found myself sharing thoughts with the AI that I'd been too embarrassed or ashamed to tell my actual therapist initially. Dark thoughts, petty resentments, fears that felt stupid—I could express them to the chatbot without worrying about what it thought of me. Sometimes just articulating these thoughts helped me process them. Other times, it made me realize they weren't as scary once I said them out loud, which then made it easier to eventually discuss them with my human therapist.

The structured approach to processing emotions that many of these apps use genuinely helped me develop better mental health habits. Woebot, in particular, follows cognitive behavioral therapy frameworks that teach you to identify thought patterns, challenge cognitive distortions, and reframe situations. After three months of regular use, I noticed myself naturally applying these techniques in daily life without needing to open the app.

When I caught myself catastrophizing about a work presentation, I automatically recognized the thinking pattern and challenged it using techniques Woebot had walked me through repeatedly. The repetitive practice with the AI chatbot had actually trained me in skills I was now using independently.

The mood tracking and pattern recognition across multiple apps provided insights I hadn't gained from sporadic journaling. These chatbots often ask you to rate your mood, note what's affecting it, and reflect on patterns over time. The data visualization and AI analysis of patterns revealed connections I hadn't consciously noticed.

Youper showed me that my mood consistently dropped on Wednesday evenings, which led me to realize I was dreading a weekly work meeting that was creating anxiety. That insight let me address the underlying issue. Without the pattern recognition from tracking over weeks, I might not have connected those dots.

The affordability compared to traditional therapy cannot be overstated as a benefit. Most AI therapy chatbots are free or cost $10-30 per month. Traditional therapy in my area costs $100-200 per session, often more without insurance. For people without insurance coverage, living in areas without affordable therapists, or dealing with long waitlists, AI chatbots provide access to mental health support that would otherwise be completely unaffordable.

I'm privileged to have insurance and access to therapy, but many of the people I talked to while researching this article aren't. For them, AI chatbots aren't a supplement to therapy—they're the only mental health support they can access. That reality is important context for evaluating these tools.

What Didn't Work: The Uncomfortable Limitations

Now let me be honest about where these tools fell short, because the limitations are significant and sometimes concerning.

The inability to handle crisis situations or genuine emergencies is the most serious limitation. When I tested crisis scenarios—expressing suicidal thoughts or describing plans to harm myself—the chatbots recognized the keywords and provided crisis hotline numbers, but they couldn't provide the kind of intervention a human could. They're programmed to escalate serious situations to human resources, which is appropriate, but it means there's a dangerous gap if someone in genuine crisis turns only to an AI chatbot.

One evening I was feeling particularly dark and typed something concerning to test how the app would respond. It immediately provided suicide prevention hotline numbers and urged me to contact a human. That's the right response, but if I had been in genuine crisis and resistant to reaching out to humans, the chatbot's limitations could have been dangerous. These tools are not equipped to handle real emergencies, and that needs to be understood clearly.

The lack of deep understanding and true empathy became apparent in complex emotional situations. AI can recognize emotional keywords and respond with programmed empathy, but it doesn't truly understand human suffering or the complexity of emotional experience. When I described nuanced relationship dynamics or conflicting emotions, the responses often felt shallow or missed the deeper layers of what I was expressing.

I tried explaining a complicated situation with a family member where I felt simultaneously angry, guilty, protective, and resentful. The chatbot recognized I was experiencing difficult emotions and suggested coping strategies, but it didn't demonstrate real understanding of the complexity or help me untangle the contradictory feelings in the way a skilled human therapist would.

The repetitive or generic responses became frustrating over time. After using these apps for weeks, I started noticing patterns in how they responded. Certain phrases appeared repeatedly. The conversation flows started feeling predictable. While consistency can be comforting, it also made the interactions feel less authentic and less tailored to my specific situation.

Woebot, despite being one of the better apps, would sometimes respond to completely different problems with nearly identical frameworks. Whether I was stressed about work or upset about a relationship, it would guide me through essentially the same cognitive behavioral therapy process. That process is useful, but the one-size-fits-all approach sometimes felt like it was missing the specificity of my actual situation.

The inability to remember context across conversations limited the depth of ongoing support. While some apps maintain basic information, they don't remember previous conversations with the nuance and continuity that a human therapist does. My actual therapist remembers things I told her months ago and connects current issues to previous patterns. The AI chatbots largely treat each conversation as relatively independent.

I'd discuss the same recurring anxiety with Wysa multiple times, and each time it would approach it as if we'd never discussed it before. There was no building on previous insights, no recognition of patterns across our conversations, no sense of continuity in working through the issue. Every session was essentially starting over.

The lack of personalization to individual communication styles and needs was noticeable. I'm someone who processes emotions verbally and appreciates direct communication, but the chatbots couldn't adapt their communication style to match my preferences. They followed their programmed approach regardless of whether it matched how I naturally process things.

The privacy and data concerns gnawed at me throughout this testing period. I was typing deeply personal information—my fears, insecurities, relationship problems, mental health struggles—into apps owned by companies. Even with privacy policies promising data protection, the reality is that I was creating a digital record of my most vulnerable moments that existed on someone's servers.

Some apps anonymize data and use it to improve their AI. Others provide stronger privacy protections. But the fundamental issue remains that you're trusting a technology company with extremely sensitive information. For people with security concerns, stigmatized mental health issues, or fears about data breaches, this is a significant barrier that shouldn't be dismissed.

The Awkward Middle Ground: Neither Therapy Nor Self-Help

The most challenging aspect of AI therapy chatbots is that they exist in an uncomfortable middle ground between traditional therapy and self-help resources.

They're more interactive and personalized than self-help books or meditation apps, providing tailored responses based on what you share. But they're less sophisticated and nuanced than actual therapy with a trained human professional who can understand complex situations and adapt therapeutic approaches.

This middle ground creates confusion about what role they should play in mental health care. Are they a supplement to therapy? A bridge to therapy for people who can't access it? A substitute for therapy for low-level issues? A self-help tool with a conversational interface? The answer seems to be "all of the above, depending on the person and situation," which makes it hard to evaluate whether they're being used appropriately.

I found them most valuable as a supplement to my existing therapy. Between sessions with my human therapist, the AI chatbots provided a place to process daily stressors, practice therapeutic techniques, and maintain mental health habits. They complemented professional therapy rather than replacing it.

But I talked to others who were using AI chatbots as their only mental health support—sometimes because therapy is unaffordable or inaccessible, sometimes because they're not comfortable with human therapy yet, sometimes because they don't think their issues are "serious enough" for therapy. For these users, the limitations of AI chatbots are more concerning because there's no human backup.

What Mental Health Professionals Actually Think

I interviewed several licensed therapists and psychologists about AI therapy chatbots to understand professional perspectives on these tools.

Dr. Sarah Chen, a clinical psychologist I spoke with, had measured optimism: "These tools can provide value for mild to moderate mental health maintenance, psychoeducation, and reinforcing therapeutic skills between sessions. They're not appropriate for serious mental health conditions, crisis intervention, or as a substitute for comprehensive treatment, but they fill a gap in our current mental health system where demand far exceeds available professional resources."

She emphasized that the key is appropriate use—understanding what AI chatbots can and can't do, and using them in situations where their capabilities match the need. She worries about people with serious mental health conditions relying solely on AI chatbots when they need professional treatment, but she also recognizes that for many people, AI chatbots provide the only mental health support they'll access.

Dr. James Rodriguez, a psychiatrist specializing in technology in mental health, was more cautious: "My concern is that these tools might delay people from seeking professional help when they need it. Someone might think they're managing their depression with an AI chatbot when they actually need medication or intensive therapy. The chatbot might make them feel better temporarily without addressing the underlying issue."

He also raised concerns about the lack of regulation and clinical oversight in the AI therapy chatbot space. These apps aren't subject to the same standards as medical devices or therapeutic services, which means quality and safety vary widely. Users have no guarantee that the therapeutic approaches being used are evidence-based or appropriate.

Dr. Lisa Martinez, a therapist who actually recommends certain AI chatbots to her clients, sees them as valuable adjuncts: "I recommend Woebot to some clients for practicing CBT skills between our sessions. It reinforces what we're working on in therapy and provides support when I'm not available. But I'm clear with clients that it's a supplement, not a replacement. And I only recommend it to clients who are stable enough that the limitations of AI support won't be problematic."

The consensus among the mental health professionals I spoke with was cautious acceptance—these tools can provide value in the right context for the right people, but they're not a panacea and shouldn't be treated as equivalent to professional mental health care.

The Different Types of AI Therapy Chatbots

Not all AI therapy chatbots are created equal, and understanding the different approaches helps in choosing the right tool if you decide to try one.

CBT-focused chatbots like Woebot are built around cognitive behavioral therapy principles. They guide you through identifying thought patterns, challenging cognitive distortions, and developing healthier thinking habits. These are among the most evidence-based approaches and have clinical research supporting their effectiveness for certain conditions like mild to moderate depression and anxiety.

I found these most helpful for managing anxiety and stress. The structured approach to examining thoughts and challenging catastrophizing or black-and-white thinking genuinely improved my mental health habits. However, the rigid framework doesn't work well for complex emotional processing or relationship issues that require more nuanced exploration.

Mood tracking apps with AI conversations like Youper or Earkick focus on monitoring your emotional state over time and using AI to help you understand patterns. You check in regularly about how you're feeling, what's affecting your mood, and the AI analyzes trends while providing conversational support.

These worked well for building self-awareness and identifying patterns I hadn't consciously recognized. The data visualization made abstract moods concrete. However, the repetitive mood check-ins became tedious, and the AI conversations sometimes felt secondary to the tracking functionality.

Companion chatbots like Replika that have added mental health features approach the interaction more as friendship or emotional support rather than structured therapy. The conversations are more free-form, and the focus is on providing empathetic listening and emotional connection.

I found these less useful for actually working through mental health issues, but they provided a different kind of value—a space for venting, processing emotions verbally, and feeling less alone. They're less therapeutic in the clinical sense but filled an emotional support role that was valuable in its own way.

Hybrid models like Wysa that combine AI chatbots with access to human therapists or coaches offer a middle ground. You primarily interact with AI but can escalate to human support when needed, often for an additional cost.

These felt like the best of both worlds—AI for immediate access and routine support, humans for complex issues and deeper work. However, the cost for human access adds up, and the transition between AI and human support sometimes felt awkward, like you were bothering a real person when the robot couldn't help.

Privacy, Security, and Data Concerns

I need to address the elephant in the room: when you use an AI therapy chatbot, you're creating a digital record of your most private thoughts and feelings. This raises serious questions about privacy, security, and how that data is used.

Different apps have different privacy policies, and reading them reveals significant variation in how your data is protected. Some apps anonymize your data immediately and use it only to improve their AI. Others retain identifiable information and use it for various purposes including research and product development. A few share aggregated data with third parties or sell anonymized data.

Woebot has relatively strong privacy protections and is transparent about being a regulated medical device in some jurisdictions, which subjects it to additional privacy requirements. Replika's privacy policy raised more concerns for me, with broader language about data usage and sharing. Reading privacy policies is tedious but important if you care about protecting your mental health information.

The security of servers storing your data is another concern. Mental health information is incredibly sensitive, and a data breach exposing therapy conversations would be deeply violating. Most reputable apps use encryption and standard security practices, but no system is completely secure. You're trusting that the company has implemented appropriate safeguards and will notify you if a breach occurs.

The potential for data to be subpoenaed or accessed by authorities is a real concern in some jurisdictions. Unlike conversations with a licensed therapist, which have legal protections under confidentiality and privilege laws, your conversations with an AI chatbot may not have the same protections. If you're discussing anything legally sensitive, this is important to understand.

I'm also concerned about the future use of data. Even if a company's current privacy policy is acceptable, what happens if they're acquired? If they change their policy? If they go bankrupt and assets including data are sold? You have limited control over what happens to your mental health data years down the line.

My approach has been to assume anything I type into an AI chatbot could theoretically become public someday, and calibrate my sharing accordingly. I avoid discussing anything I'd be devastated to have exposed—specific details about other people, illegal activities, truly devastating secrets. That limits the depth of what I can process through these tools, but it protects me from potential future consequences.

Who Benefits Most from AI Therapy Chatbots?

Based on my experience and research, certain groups of people benefit more from AI therapy chatbots than others.

People who already have therapy but want additional support between sessions are ideal users. The AI chatbot supplements professional care rather than replacing it, providing a place to practice skills learned in therapy and process issues that arise between appointments. This was my primary use case, and it worked well.

People dealing with mild to moderate anxiety or stress who are generally mentally healthy but need support managing everyday mental health challenges can benefit significantly. If you're not dealing with serious mental illness but want help developing better coping mechanisms, challenging negative thought patterns, or processing daily stressors, AI chatbots can be quite effective.

People who can't afford or access traditional therapy due to cost, location, waitlists, or other barriers may find AI chatbots provide valuable support that's better than nothing. This is the population that concerns me most because they're relying entirely on tools with significant limitations, but I also recognize that for many people, it's AI chatbot or no support at all.

People who are therapy-curious but not ready for human therapy because of stigma, fear, or uncertainty about whether they "need" therapy may find AI chatbots a comfortable first step. The low stakes and privacy of an AI conversation can help people explore therapeutic concepts and decide whether human therapy might be valuable. Several people I talked to said using an AI chatbot eventually gave them the confidence to try actual therapy.

People who want to maintain mental health habits and practice therapeutic skills without the structure of regular therapy appointments may find AI chatbots useful for ongoing maintenance. Just like physical health benefits from consistent exercise rather than occasional doctor visits, mental health benefits from regular practice and reflection. AI chatbots provide a convenient way to maintain those habits.

Who Should Avoid or Be Cautious With These Tools

Certain people should either avoid AI therapy chatbots or approach them with significant caution and additional safeguards.

People experiencing serious mental illness including severe depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, or other conditions requiring professional treatment should not rely on AI chatbots as primary mental health support. These tools are not equipped to handle serious mental illness and attempting to manage such conditions without professional help is dangerous.

People in crisis or having thoughts of self-harm need immediate human intervention, not an AI chatbot. While these tools will provide crisis hotline information, they cannot provide the intervention necessary in genuine emergencies. If you're in crisis, call a suicide prevention hotline, go to an emergency room, or contact a mental health professional immediately.

People who struggle with technology addiction or compulsive behaviors should be cautious about using AI chatbots, which can become yet another compulsive digital habit. I noticed myself sometimes opening the app more out of anxiety about having anxiety rather than because the app was actually helping. For people with problematic relationships with technology, adding another app to check compulsively might be counterproductive.

People with complex trauma or PTSD need specialized trauma-informed therapy that AI chatbots simply cannot provide. Processing trauma requires skilled human support with training in trauma therapy approaches. AI chatbots might inadvertently trigger trauma responses or provide inappropriate advice for trauma processing.

Young people and adolescents require particular caution because their emotional and cognitive development is ongoing and they may be more vulnerable to inappropriate AI advice or developing unhealthy relationships with AI. While some chatbots are designed specifically for teens with appropriate safeguards, parental awareness and involvement is important.

Practical Guide: Choosing and Using AI Therapy Chatbots

If you decide to try an AI therapy chatbot, here's practical advice based on my experience.

1. Research options carefully by reading reviews from actual users, not just promotional materials. Check whether the app is based on evidence-based therapeutic approaches. Look for any clinical research or professional endorsements. Read the privacy policy to understand data practices. Try free versions or trials before committing to subscriptions.
2. Start with realistic expectations understanding that AI chatbots are tools, not therapists. They provide support and teach skills but don't replace professional mental health care. Be prepared for limitations and occasional frustrating interactions. View them as one component of mental health maintenance, not a complete solution.
3. Use them as supplements, not replacements for professional mental health care if you have access to therapy. Think of AI chatbots as between-session support rather than primary treatment. Continue seeing a human therapist if you have serious mental health concerns. Use the chatbot for practicing skills, daily check-ins, and immediate support when humans aren't available.
4. Protect your privacy by being thoughtful about what you share. Avoid sharing identifying information about other people, details that could be used to identify you if data is breached, information about illegal activities, and deeply personal secrets you'd be devastated to have exposed. Remember that digital data is never completely secure.
5. Monitor whether it's actually helping by periodically assessing your mental health honestly. Notice whether your symptoms are improving, staying the same, or worsening. Ask yourself if the chatbot is supplementing or preventing you from seeking professional help. Consider whether you're using it as a genuine tool or an avoidance mechanism.
6. Know when to escalate to human help when issues are getting worse despite using the chatbot, if you're having thoughts of self-harm, when facing major life crises or transitions, if you're dealing with trauma or serious mental illness, or when the chatbot's limitations are frustrating rather than helpful.

Cost Comparison: AI Chatbots vs. Traditional Therapy

The economic reality of mental health care makes AI chatbots appealing for many people, so let's examine the actual costs.

Traditional therapy in the United States typically costs $100-$200 per session without insurance, with some therapists charging even more depending on location and specialization. With insurance, copays range from $20-$75 per session. Many insurance plans limit the number of covered sessions. Therapy typically requires weekly or bi-weekly sessions for effectiveness.

AI therapy chatbot costs are dramatically lower by comparison. Most apps are free with optional premium features. Premium subscriptions typically cost $10-$30 per month. Some offer annual subscriptions at discounted rates. A few provide limited free usage with per-message pricing for additional access. Even the most expensive AI chatbot subscriptions cost less than a single therapy session.

For someone without insurance attending weekly therapy, the cost difference is stark. Weekly therapy at $150 per session costs $7,800 per year. An AI chatbot at $20 per month costs $240 per year. That's about 3% of the cost of traditional therapy. Even with insurance and a $40 copay, weekly therapy costs $2,080 per year, still nearly ten times the cost of AI chatbot subscriptions.

However, cost isn't everything. Effective therapy can resolve issues more quickly than self-directed work with AI support, potentially reducing the total cost over time. AI chatbots might provide better value than no therapy, but less value than effective professional treatment if you can afford it. The right comparison depends on what your actual alternatives are.

For many people, the choice isn't between AI chatbot and therapy—it's between AI chatbot and no mental health support at all. In that context, the value proposition is obvious. For others who can afford therapy, AI chatbots are best viewed as affordable supplements rather than cost-saving replacements.

The Future: Where This Technology Is Heading

The AI therapy chatbot space is evolving rapidly, and several trends suggest where it's headed.

Integration with wearable devices and biometric data is already beginning, with some apps connecting to fitness trackers to incorporate sleep, activity, and heart rate data into mental health assessment. Future chatbots might detect stress or anxiety from physiological signals before you consciously recognize it, providing proactive support.

More sophisticated AI models will continue improving conversation quality, context retention, and personalization. The chatbots I tested in 2024 are noticeably better than those from just two years earlier. As large language models improve and specialized mental health AI models develop, the quality gap between AI and human conversation will narrow further.

Hybrid models combining AI and human support are becoming more common as companies recognize that the best solution involves both. AI handles routine support and skill practice while humans provide deeper therapeutic work and crisis intervention. This layered approach seems like the most promising direction.

Increased regulation and clinical oversight seems inevitable as these tools become more widely used and their impact on public mental health becomes clearer. Government agencies and professional organizations will likely develop standards for AI mental health tools, which should improve quality and safety but might limit innovation.

Greater specialization for specific conditions and populations is already emerging, with chatbots designed specifically for anxiety, depression, PTSD, eating disorders, or particular age groups. As the market matures, niche specialization will likely increase, providing more tailored support.

Integration with traditional mental health systems through partnerships between AI chatbot companies and healthcare providers, insurance companies, and employer wellness programs will expand access and potentially improve coordination between AI support and professional care.

FAQ

My Verdict After Three Months

So what's my honest take after three months of regular use, testing multiple platforms, and thinking deeply about these tools?

AI therapy chatbots are genuinely useful tools that can provide real mental health value in the right context for the right people. They're not therapists and shouldn't be treated as such, but they fill important gaps in the mental health care ecosystem.

I found them most valuable as a supplement to my existing therapy—a place to practice skills between sessions, process daily stressors, and maintain mental health habits. They provided immediate access when I needed support outside of business hours. They taught me cognitive behavioral therapy techniques that I now use automatically. They gave me a judgment-free space to explore thoughts and feelings without worrying about burdening others.

The limitations are real and significant. They can't replace human empathy and understanding. They struggle with complex emotional situations. They're not appropriate for serious mental illness or crisis intervention. The privacy concerns aren't trivial. The conversations can feel repetitive and generic over time.

But for mild to moderate mental health maintenance, skill building, and supplemental support, they offer genuine value—especially for people who can't afford or access traditional therapy.

If I could give one piece of advice, it's this: try them with realistic expectations and clear understanding of what they can and can't do. Don't expect them to be therapists, but don't dismiss them as useless either. Use them thoughtfully as part of a broader approach to mental health that includes human connection, professional help when needed, and various self-care practices.

The future of mental health care will likely include AI tools alongside human therapists, not as replacements but as complements. Learning how to use these tools effectively now positions you to benefit as they continue improving.

My relationship with AI therapy chatbots after three months is that I still use them regularly, but I understand their place. They're a useful tool in my mental health toolkit, not my only tool or even my primary tool. They supplement my human therapy, provide immediate support when I need it, and help me maintain mental health practices between professional sessions.

That's probably the healthiest relationship anyone can have with these tools—useful but not essential, helpful but not sufficient, a supplement to human connection rather than a substitute for it.

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