Using AI for Mental Health Support: Comfort, Care, and the Human Difference

Reflections Inspired by the American Psychological Association’s Health Advisory on AI Chatbots and Wellness Apps.

A person sitting quietly by a window at night, illuminated by soft light, reflecting on inner life and emotional support.

Many people now turn to a screen in moments of quiet distress. Late at night, when thoughts spiral and no one feels available, an AI chatbot can feel like a steady presence—responsive, patient, always there. For some, these tools have become a place to sort through feelings, name anxieties, or simply feel less alone. In a world moving fast and asking much of us, it makes sense that we would reach for something that listens.

There is no shame in this. In fact, there is something deeply human about it.

As this quiet shift unfolds, the American Psychological Association (APA)—the leading professional organization for psychology in the United States—has offered a thoughtful pause. In a recent publication https://www.apa.org/topics/artificial-intelligence-machine-learning/health-advisory-ai-chatbots-wellness-apps-mental-health.pdf?utm_source=chatgpt.com the APA reflects on what it means to entrust our inner lives to technology. Grounded in decades of psychological science and clinical ethics, the advisory does not dismiss the comfort these tools can offer, but it does remind us of something essential: emotional support is not the same as mental health care.

AI tools are available when people are not. They don’t judge, don’t interrupt, don’t get tired. For those navigating anxiety, loneliness, burnout, grief, or identity questions—especially in systems where therapy is expensive, stigmatized, or difficult to access—AI can feel like a lifeline.

Often, what people are seeking isn’t a diagnosis or a treatment plan. It’s containment. Reflection. A place to land for a moment.

This tells us something important: the growing use of AI for mental health support is less about technology itself, and more about unmet human needs.

The APA Health Advisory emerges not from fear of innovation, but from concern for psychological safety. It highlights that while AI chatbots and wellness apps may offer short-term comfort, they are not currently supported by sufficient clinical evidence as standalone mental health care, and they do not understand symbolic life in its depth and diversity—how inner worlds are shaped by culture, history, myth, language, and the narratives through which people make meaning—especially in moments of vulnerability or crisis.

AI systems do not have clinical judgment. They do not understand context in the way a human does. They cannot reliably assess risk, respond to suicidal thoughts, or recognize when someone is dissociating, retraumatized, or overwhelmed beyond words. And despite how relational they may feel, they are not accountable in the way a licensed mental health professional is.

The advisory also raises concerns about over-reliance—when people begin turning to AI instead of seeking human care, not because they prefer it, but because they feel they have no other option.

There is an important distinction here. Comfort can be soothing, organizing, and even stabilizing in the moment. Care, however, involves responsibility, relationship, and an ethical commitment to one’s well-being over time.

Mental health care is not only about what is said. It is about what is noticed—tone, pauses, contradictions, bodily responses, and the meanings beneath words. Healing often unfolds through attunement, rupture and repair, and the slow building of trust. These are relational processes that require human presence.

The APA’s message is not that AI has no place—but that it should not be asked to do what it was never designed to do.

Perhaps the most important invitation in this moment is not to choose sides—AI versus therapy—but to slow down and ask better questions. What if AI tools are signals rather than solutions? What if their popularity points to a world where people are overwhelmed, isolated, and longing for connection? What if the task is not to replace human care with machines, but to make care more accessible, humane, and responsive?

AI may help people name feelings, learn coping strategies, or feel less alone for a moment. But healing—especially when pain runs deep—requires something more enduring: a human relationship where one is seen, heard, and held with care.

If AI has been a doorway—a first place where someone dared to speak—let it be that. A beginning, not an ending. A bridge, not a destination.

Technology can respond.
But healing happens in relationship.

Source: American Psychological Association. Health Advisory on the Use of Generative AI Chatbots and Wellness Applications for Mental Health.

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