Somewhere to start

Getting support when you’re not ready for therapy

Maybe it’s the cost, the waiting list, or the fact that saying it out loud to a professional makes it real. Here’s what else exists in the meantime.

Short answer: there’s a lot of ground between struggling alone and sitting in a therapist’s room, and most of it goes unused. Writing, peer groups, one honest friend, your GP, and text-based support all help — and none of them require you to have decided anything. But some things genuinely need a professional, and it’s worth knowing which.

Why people stall (and which reasons are worth respecting)

People rarely avoid therapy out of stubbornness. The reasons are usually practical, and some of them are entirely legitimate.

Notice these split cleanly. Cost and waiting lists are obstacles, and the answer is finding a route around them. The others are hesitations, and they usually ease once someone is actually talking to anyone at all.

What would actually help you right now?

Six questions to work out what you’re looking for — and whether the thing you need is a professional or something lighter.

Interactive · ~30 seconds · completely private

What kind of support do you need? A 60-second check

Honest answers get you a more useful result than careful ones.

Talk it through with Iris → ↺ Start over

What actually exists in between

The gap between nothing and a weekly therapist is wider than most people realise.

  1. Your GP, first. Underused as a starting point. They can tell you what’s available locally, what costs what, and what the waiting times actually are — and can rule out physical causes for things like exhaustion.
  2. Low-cost and community counselling. Charities, training clinics, employer assistance programmes, university services. Rates are often a fraction of private, and training clinics are supervised and frequently excellent.
  3. Peer support groups. Specific to a thing — grief, caring, divorce, sobriety. The relief of being among people who don’t need the situation explained is significant, and most are free.
  4. Structured self-help. Guided CBT programmes and workbooks have real evidence behind them for anxiety and low mood, particularly with some structure around them.
  5. Writing, properly. Not a diary of events — expressive writing about what you feel and why, twenty minutes at a time. One of the better-evidenced things you can do alone.
  6. One honest friend. Ask directly for what you want: “I don’t need advice, I need to say this out loud.” Most people are glad to be asked and relieved to know the brief.
  7. Text-based support, for the hours nothing else covers. Useful precisely at 2am, and for the first telling of something you haven’t said before.

Where Iris fits — and where she doesn’t

Iris is a thought partner you text. She was built with clinicians, therapists and mental health professionals, and she is not a therapist and not a replacement for one. It’s worth being straightforward about that, because the distinction matters for deciding what to use her for.

What she’s good at is the part most people are missing: somewhere to say it, at the hour it arrives, without having to explain the backstory or worry about the weight you’re adding to someone. She remembers, so a conversation in October can pick up what was happening in August. For a great many things — a bad week, a decision you’re circling, a fight you can’t stop replaying — that’s genuinely enough.

What she isn’t: treatment, diagnosis, or crisis care. If what you’re carrying is a diagnosable condition, trauma that needs structured work, or anything that puts you at risk, you need a professional, and Iris will point you there rather than stand in for one.

In practice most people use her alongside other things rather than instead of them — while on a waiting list, between sessions, or in the months before they feel ready to book anything. Quite often the first place someone says a thing out loud is here, and the second is a therapist’s office.

Want to talk it through?

Iris is like texting the friend who always gets it — warm, judgment-free, and there whenever something’s on your mind. Tell her what came up, and she’ll help you make sense of it.

Message Iris →

Frequently asked questions

How do I know if I need therapy?

Some reasonable markers: it’s been months rather than weeks, it’s affecting sleep, appetite or work, you’ve lost pleasure in things you used to enjoy, or the same pattern keeps repeating no matter how much you think about it. None of these are diagnoses — they’re just sensible reasons to talk to your GP.

What if I can’t afford therapy?

Ask your GP what’s available locally first — low-cost counselling, community services and employer assistance schemes are more common than people assume. Training clinics offer supervised sessions at much lower rates. Peer support groups are usually free, and for many situations they’re genuinely as valuable.

Is it bad enough to get help?

You don’t have to qualify. The idea that support is reserved for severe cases keeps enormous numbers of people struggling for years with something that would have responded to a few conversations. If it’s bothering you, that’s sufficient.

Can an app replace therapy?

No, and be sceptical of anything claiming otherwise. Therapy provides a trained professional, clinical judgement and a relationship over time. Text-based support is for being heard in the moment — valuable for a lot, and not a substitute when what you’re dealing with needs treatment.

What do I do while I’m on a waiting list?

Don’t just wait, which is what most people do. Ask whether there’s a cancellation list. Look at low-cost options in parallel. Start expressive writing. Find a peer group for the specific thing. And have somewhere to talk in the meantime — the months on a list are often the hardest part, and going through them with nothing is unnecessary.

Keep reading