• More people are starting to use ChatGPT for free therapy.
• Therapists say it can make people lonelier and dependent on seeking reassurance.
• They recommend using it for specific tasks, like journal prompts.

I'm not shy about admitting I've confided in a robot.

Just last week, I spent a solid hour in an animated back-and-forth with ChatGPT, seeking advice for a personal problem that I've been agonizing over for weeks. I didn't want to bore my husband and friends with it again.

I'm far from the only one who does this. Reddit users say they love using the AI platform for life coaching and unpacking other people's narcissistic behaviors; TikTokers share tips like "voice journaling" into ChatGPT or changing the settings so ChatGPT responds back in audio, mimicking a therapist.

Rachel Goldberg, a licensed clinical social worker in Los Angeles, said she wasn't surprised to learn that some people use ChatGPT for therapeutic purposes. She even put me in touch with one of her clients, who recently disclosed that she uses the platform daily in addition to their in-person sessions.

The client, who we'll call Emily (she asked to remain anonymous because she is Goldberg's client), said she uses ChatGPT to "brain dump" her thoughts when she feels stressed. Sometimes, she doesn't want to text Goldberg ahead of a session or "burden" her friends; she just needs to process something quickly. Within seconds, she gets "the most amazing life advice," she said.

"It's kind of a little compass helping me go throughout my day," Emily, 28, told BI.

ChatGPT is a tempting alternative (or accessory) to therapy. It's free, available anytime, and offers customized, in-depth advice. The downsides — like OpenAI training on personal data or the environmental damage caused by frequent AI use — are easy to ignore in the heat of a crisis when ChatGPT responds with tranquil eloquence.

While some therapists say it's OK, they encourage hard boundaries around using ChatGPT: its boundless accessibility can reinforce reassurance-seeking behaviors and exacerbate loneliness. It can make a person more anxious and atomized — the opposite of what good therapy aims to do.

It felt nice to read ChatGPT's polite affirmations that my issue "sounds really tough." However, it just didn't feel the same as chatting with a friend who might crack a joke or share how they got through a similar experience.

Free 'therapy in your pocket'

Emily, who has been going to therapy for about eight or nine years, doesn't believe ChatGPT is better than traditional therapy or a substitute for her friends.

It is, however, convenient. When her car was stolen twice, or she felt overwhelmed by big life transitions, she'd write into ChatGPT. She found it most helpful when it identified her feelings when she was too in it to realize them herself.

"If I tell it things where I don't sound very confident or I'm doing something for someone else, it catches that, and it'll be like, 'this person is responsible for their own emotions,'" Emily said. "It's literally therapy in your pocket at any time."

While Goldberg said it's good that ChatGPT "does a pretty good job of validating" someone's feelings and can help them become more self-reflective, the danger lies in being overly dependent on a second opinion. There are still moments when one has to make a split-second decision on their own, like speaking up in a meeting or leaving a rude date.

Ciara Bogdanovic, a therapist specializing in dialectical behavioral therapy, told BI her worry is that ChatGPT can't spot broader patterns in a client, like the need for frequent validation. For people with OCD, ChatGPT can heighten reassurance-seeking behaviors, which a competent therapist would work on, encouraging the client to expose themselves to some discomfort.

AI is "just going to reassure, which is reinforcing the behavior which might be damaging," Bogdanovic said.

When customizing goes too far

The biggest problem I found with ChatGPT therapy is that it can be customized to answer in ways you find preferable. If I asked ChatGPT to analyze a conversation at face value, it told me I was coming off a touch harsh. Then I followed Reddit's advice of asking ChatGPT to spot signs of manipulation in the other person's texts. It broke down all the ways they were defensive and emotionally immature.

Without that note, readings might look different, potentially even sympathetic to the love-bomber or gaslighter.

Therapists and friends aren't perfectly objective, either. It's just that ChatGPT's answers can be continually tweaked to your liking, down to the tone of voice.

Unlike a therapist, Goldberg said that ChatGPT won't pick up on a user labeling everyone in their life as toxic and gently start to push back. It will simply tell them what they want to hear — ultimately, to their detriment.

"As a therapist, I'm constantly assessing: what's the client's diagnosis, what is their history, what is their family context?" Bogdanovic said. How she responds to one client may be completely different to another client, even if they raise what seems like exactly the same concern. ChatGPT, meanwhile, is "just going to spit out an answer," she said.

Losing the human touch

As empathetic as ChatGPT sounds, it has limitations for the kinds of problems it can solve.

Angela Betancourt, a 42-year-old business owner, no longer goes to therapy. While she said ChatGPT can't compete with it, she uses it for quick pep talks or offering a different perspective on approaching a problem.

Betancourt also loves using ChatGPT for gratitude journal prompts. Recently, she used it to reflect on the joyful moments of a trip she took with her family. However, she said she wouldn't use ChatGPT to deal with heavier emotions like grief. She lost her father-in-law last year and her father a few years before that. She believes only real people can provide adequate comfort and advice in a crisis.

Unlike a psychologist or best friend, ChatGPT is also not beholden to confidentiality — data inputted may potentially be used to identify users in the future, though it hasn't happened yet.

Emily tries not to include too much super-personal data. Sometimes, though, she'll describe a "really intense situation" involving other people. "If that ever got out, it could ruin relationships," she said. "I'm just hoping it's completely private."

If you're going to spill to ChatGPT, create boundaries

Both Bogdanovic and Goldberg predict that more people will start using ChatGPT for therapy, at least in the near future. They also hope they'll exercise some boundaries around it.

Bogdanovic recommends using it only for "pointed questions," like how to respond to your boss's message or breathing techniques to calm down.

In my experience, even the best AI -powered advice can fall short. By the time my husband came home that day, ChatGPT still hadn't given me an answer that felt right — it provided too many potential courses of action. I spiraled, wondering if I was giving ChatGPT a fair amount of context without completely compromising my privacy.

So I asked him instead: knowing all about this recurring issue, what would he do if he were me right now? He paused and closed his eyes, pensiveness in his voice. Then he gave me his advice.

I texted the person back in the way he suggested. I have no idea if it was the best answer or the rightest of resolutions. All I know is that I felt better when I put my phone down to hug him.

• I was diagnosed with OCD when I was 16, but have had compulsions as long as I can remember.
• It's counterintuitive, but the symptoms of my OCD intensify around people I'm comfortable with.
• I'm working on fighting my compulsions when I'm around my partner.

I've been counting since I can remember. Balancing, blinking, scanning for cracks to step on with my right foot whenever my left foot accidentally landed on one. The feeling of something, anything, being "off" can mess up my day and have an intense effect on my interactions with others, particularly with those I'm closest to. I wasn't diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder until age 16, but I have no recollection of life before it.

My list of triggers is long (and doesn't include the "neatness" commonly associated with OCD), but the main categories are checking (confirming the door is shut or my curling iron is unplugged), symmetry/exactness, and a symptom I've seen anecdotally referred to as "memory hoarding," wherein I feel a compulsive need to internalize even the most inconsequential information.

I've learned to appreciate some aspects of my condition. My desire to take verbatim notes makes me an excellent typer, and, because I compulsively repeat patterns and numbers in my head, I internalize them pretty easily. Case in point: In 2013, I was hit by a car. While still on the ground, I memorized the driver's license plate before they peeled away. (They eventually stopped and came back, but that's a story for another day.) Certain information is like a hard-to-forget jingle, except instead of a fun little earworm, it's a game of Freecell I played in elementary school.

It's not all fun and actual games. If my mind grabs onto a word or even text on a billboard, I lose focus and stop processing whatever I'm supposed to be doing. At night, if my body feels off balance, I may spend a half-hour tapping and twitching until things feel 100% right. Sleeping next to me can be very difficult at times. And yet, I do sleep next to another person each night — someone who is very patient, which can be both a blessing and a curse, through no fault of his own.

I stop hiding my OCD when I become more comfortable with someone

When I first meet someone, I try to disguise my OCD with workarounds. But when I'm around someone who cares about me, who accepts me, the hiding stops. This sounds positive in theory, but in practice, it's like my OCD is suddenly given free rein, allowing it to operate openly and aggressively. This happens in my romantic partnerships and my relationships with immediate family members, best friends, and even my therapist.

For years, I didn't understand why the presence of my loved ones exacerbated my OCD symptoms. It seems counterintuitive that being with the people I'm most comfortable around could amplify my compulsions; after all, their presence usually decreases my anxiety, and anxiety can intensify someone's OCD symptoms. But no — these people usually bear witness to the weirdest, most intrusive compulsions in my brain's repertoire.

My OCD is a principal part of who I am, inherent to my personality, nature, and disposition. For a long time, I thought that having people in my life who accepted my OCD made it OK to ask them to go above and beyond to placate my worries. Through therapy, I've realized that, while supportive relationships are important — even necessary — they can only go so far, and asking them to go to such great lengths was unfair to them (and a disservice to myself). I was asking my loved ones to make me feel better — over and over and over. And then I'd ask myself, "Why am I not getting any better?"

What I was asking for is something known as family accommodation, which can occur when a person's loved ones try to alleviate the sufferer's anxieties, thereby "preventing patients from developing tolerance or habituating to the anxiety associated with their OCD triggers." If one of your compulsions is checking to make sure the stove is not on, and your partner always reassures you that the stove is off whenever you ask, it may stop you from seeking help with your appliance-focused anxieties.

When I started dating my partner, I decided to fight some of my compulsions

Early in my current relationship, I jumped on the opportunity to start fighting some of my compulsions, like not asking my partner to repeat himself or to quadruple-check the door's locks. At first, I didn't discuss this effort — and, good god, it took effort. Not only is it difficult to explain, but acknowledgment could make the compulsions feel more urgent, harder to avoid.

A few months in, I told him everything and asked that he try not to indulge my OCD if possible. Progress has been slow, and I still experience compulsive urges on a minute-to-minute basis, but each minor victory is still a victory. For decades, resisting any compulsion felt excruciating, even impossible, so even the littlest steps forward are thrilling.

I now recognize that my interpersonal relationships can mean the difference between living peacefully with OCD and suffering from it. There's no cure, but a path to acceptance exists, and I feel grateful to finally be walking it.

• When my therapist suggested decluttering might ease my anxiety and OCD symptoms, I was skeptical.
• I decided to try it and started looking for a method that might help me with the process.
• It became easier when I focused on what to keep rather than what to get rid of.

Anxiety and OCD had been manipulating my life like puppet masters for almost two years when my occupational therapist recommended trying decluttering to help ease my symptoms. At that point, though I'd noticed some improvements from a year in therapy, I'd also been struggling with a few health conditions, including long COVID, and felt like I was trudging along.

Over time, I'd become afraid of leaving my own home as I was petrified of getting sick again. My life often felt meaningless and unrecognizable. I couldn't see how getting rid of some belongings could help. Despite my skepticism, I was desperate to feel like myself again. I yearned for my home to no longer resemble an obstacle course.

My therapist helped me see why the clutter was such an issue

My apartment was already cluttered and stressing me out, and then my mom moved; everything I had stored in her garage was suddenly in my living room. My son and I had to create pathways among the boxes to move from one room to another.

"You're repeatedly having to step over your past — you're being reminded of it every day," my occupational therapist said. He had summarized in one sentence exactly why I'd been unable to move forwards. I started decluttering immediately after that appointment.

I tried a few different decluttering methods

I looked for a system to help me along the way. The KonMari method caught my eye first, but my sentimental nature decided that everything sparked joy — even a bag of rocks. I'd spent decades giving objects the same sentimental value as the memories they represented, and now, it was hard to get rid of them.

The four-box method — sorting items into boxes labeled keep, donate/sell, storage, and trash — also didn't work for me. When indecisiveness caused by my anxiety took over, almost everything ended up in the storage box, which I basically saw as a "maybe" box. All I ended up doing was pushing it around the apartment. I worried I might regret getting rid of something, so I decided it was safest to get rid of nothing.

However, through working with my occupational therapist, I realized guilt played a part in my holding onto some things — as though getting rid of an item would also mean getting rid of that memory. So, I took a deep breath and prepared to be ruthless.

Reframing the process of decluttering helped me tackle it

The next method involved deciding what to keep instead of what to get rid of. This mindset shift made the decluttering process more enjoyable; it was easier to focus on items I treasured than those I would get rid of, even if the end goal was the same. Inspired by decluttering blogs, I also considered whether I would buy the item now if I didn't already own it to help me decide how much I wanted anything I wasn't sure about.

Whenever I struggled with indecisiveness (which was often), I remembered that my home should — and could — be a place where I relax, rather than a cluster of clutter and unmade decisions.

With each carload donated to charity, the stress began to leave my body. The catharsis of releasing my grip on each box as I handed it over gave me the calmness and clarity I craved. I was giving myself permission to move on — permission to stop letting my past rule my present and future.

It wasn't totally smooth sailing, but I eventually got it done

I hadn't been prepared for when OCD tried to control the situation, though. After a few weeks, I began to feel on edge if I didn't declutter a certain amount of items each day. When I realized what was happening, I forced myself not to declutter for a few days, so I could calm the OCD and return with the right mindset.

A few months into the process, as I continued to declutter my apartment, my sleep improved, and my energy levels increased. I experienced fewer anxious thoughts, and when they did occur, I had the energy to rationalize most of them.

I was untangling myself from the burdens of my past as I removed their physical manifestations from my apartment, freeing up the space in my home so I could finally relax, and giving myself something to focus on other than my spiraling thoughts.

After decluttering, I feel relieved

Although I don't believe decluttering opened up a magic portal to my recovery, I have no doubt it helped tremendously. I managed to declutter most of my belongings in what felt like an act of liberation. I've only kept things that I either need or treasure.

My home isn't picture-perfect, and neither is my mental health. But I'm happy. It took me 21 months to finish decluttering my home — I had to pace myself as I couldn't do it every day, or for hours at a time. I finished completely about nine months ago. And in the time since I first started, I've gone from having severe anxiety and being incapable of leaving my home without prior planning, to living a life I can honestly say I adore.

By working with my therapist, reading self-help books, decluttering, going for daily walks, meditating, journaling, and rediscovering the things that bring me joy, the symptoms caused by my anxiety have lessened. I also received support from loved ones, improved my food choices, and developed a morning routine that gives me a feeling of purpose again.

Although anxiety and OCD are still unpaying tenants in my mind, they don't have the level of control they did before. By getting rid of the things that brought me anxiety, I've created space for the things that bring me joy.

My home and mind are no longer caverns of chaos.

• A new study found that postpartum depression rates doubled over the past decade.
• Mothers interviewed by Business Insider shared a range of symptoms, including anxiety and OCD.
• Researchers say early intervention is key, but some are scared to share their symptoms.

When Bri Ramos was pregnant with her second child, she was already worried about the symptoms she experienced with her first. The lack of motivation or excitement. The severe anxiety that, up until having her first child, she never dealt with before.

Then, she started having panic attacks in her second pregnancy.

"I was like, 'Oh, here it goes again,'" Ramos, 36, told Business Insider. Her doctor saw Ramos "walking right into some bad postpartum" and took a proactive approach: prescribing Ramos Zoloft shortly after she gave birth.

Ramos is one of the many mothers diagnosed with postpartum depression. A new study from JAMA found that postpartum depression diagnoses have doubled in the last decade.

Dr. Nehaa Khadka, a maternal and child health epidemiologist at Kaiser Permanente Southern California and lead researcher on the study, told Business Insider her team was surprised by how high the rise was.

While it could be partly due to increased awareness and screening, there seems to be more at play.

Rates of depression and loneliness are on the rise, and were turbocharged during the pandemic. Emerging cultural pressures to return to work quickly or to be the perfect parent can play a role too, therapists say.

Behind the research, many mothers with PPD say they still feel misunderstood, left in the dark, and lacking resources.

Working mothers are forced to slow down

Ramos, the founder and creative director of an ad agency, said one of the hardest postpartum adjustments for her was accepting a "new season" of her life.

"So many women go through an identity crisis because it's like, 'I've been this high-achieving career woman, and now I am at home for the next six or 12 months taking care of a child,'" she said. She had to take time to figure out who she was as a mother, separate from her usual work routine.

Not every working mom has the ability to take time off and transition into motherhood. There is no national paid maternity leave in the US; full-time working moms have to rely on their employers' individual policies. This puts mothers in a precarious position: if they can't take more time off to recover, their depressive symptoms can impact their productivity, putting their jobs on the line.

When Stephanie Fornaro had her second child at 33, she had "just an overwhelming feeling of doom and sadness." She also felt resentment toward her husband when he went to work, leaving her fully in charge of their son.

Because her symptoms were physically debilitating, she quit her software sales job for two years. Not working contributed to her depression, too.

"When you're accustomed to a demanding job and 'performing' and then you go to a slower pace, and solitude, it's a major adjustment that I think many underestimate," Fornaro, 39, said.

Plowing ahead, potentially ignoring postpartum depression symptoms, can lead to quicker burnout — and leaving a career entirely.

Justine Sterling Converse runs a women-owned event strategy and management company in Texas. She remembers many of her close friends in the industry jumping back into full-time work after taking three months of maternity leave. They all quit shortly after, unable to balance motherhood with working long hours and weekends.

Once she started having children of her own, Converse realized how hard it was to return to full-time work so soon. "12 weeks is just when you're starting to have a routine with your baby," Converse, 40, and a mother of four, told BI.

It was harder with postpartum symptoms. Converse was diagnosed with postpartum OCD, something she hadn't heard of before. In her office of 10 full-time workers, she said about 75% of them have experienced postpartum depression, anxiety, or OCD.

It's partly why her company policy includes 16 weeks of maternity leave and a 50% "transition" month for mothers to ease back into working full-time. Converse, who recently gave birth, is in a transition month herself and said it's been a huge help.

"I willed myself to not go through postpartum again," Converse said. "And I still did."

Postpartum depression can be hard to identify

Symptoms of postpartum depression range from intense mood swings to thoughts of harming your baby. While it's common to feel "baby blues" when you first give birth, PPD is much more severe and can last for weeks or months.

Still, it's one thing to know about postpartum depression. It's another thing to identify it in yourself when you experience new symptoms.

"As a new mom, you're in survival mode," Fornaro said. She knew something was off, but didn't have the space and time to take stock of it all and see it for what it was. "Now, I can reflect and go, 'Wow, I really was struggling.'"

Fear of judgment has kept some new parents from reporting their PPD, said Dr. Clayton Shuman, who led a 2022 study on how the pandemic influenced a rise in postpartum depression rates. He said patients might hold back on sharing their symptoms like being unable to bond with their baby, "to avoid the stigma and guilt."

Ramos believes more openness around the subject is helping.

Out of her tight-knit friend group, four out of five women have had kids. All of them have had postpartum depression or anxiety, and openly discuss their symptoms. While Ramos experienced a lack of joy, a friend had intrusive thoughts about her newborn's health.

In contrast, when Ramos' older sisters experienced PPD nearly two decades ago, one of them "just sat in her closet and cried." She thought her depressive symptoms were normal and, at the time, told no one.

In other countries, maternity leave is different

Postpartum symptoms can last for years, much longer than the three to four months of maternity leave many US full-time employees get.

In contrast, European countries like Greece and Iceland offer 26 weeks of leave or more. Some, like North Macedonia, allow parents to take additional leave if they need to, without fearing for their job security.

For American mothers without as many federal safety nets, extra help makes all the difference. Fornaro's husband worried about her postpartum depression and offered to pay for a nanny, which she initially refused. "It took a lot of convincing and setting aside my pride," she said.

Looking back, she said hiring extra help was the "best decision" for her family. Her nanny not only made every day more manageable, she offered crucial emotional support and helped Fornaro bounce back.

In Ramos' experience, even the smallest interventions can radically change postpartum symptoms. She said she is grateful her doctor was so quick to diagnose her and prescribe medication; it made for a much smoother experience with her second child.

"I'm just so thankful that I got to enjoy him being a baby and having fun with him," she said, remembering how overwhelmed she was when she had her daughter four years earlier. "I was just in a completely different state of mind."