When Therapy Isn't an Option — Emotional Support That's Actually Available
Therapy is good. For the people who can access it, it's often genuinely transformative. The evidence base is real, the best therapists are skilled and caring, and there's something about the contained, weekly relationship with another human who's entirely focused on you that can do things nothing else quite can.
But therapy is not universally available. And this matters enormously.
In the UK, waiting lists for NHS mental health support can stretch to months or years. Private therapy is expensive — at £70–£150 a session, it's simply not accessible for most people working ordinary jobs. In other parts of the world, the picture is similar or worse. The gap between the number of people who could benefit from professional support and the number who can actually access it is enormous, and it's not closing.
This is not a commentary on the quality of mental health care. It's just the reality of where we are.
The Waitlist
If you've tried to access therapy through the NHS, you know what the waitlist feels like. You have a difficult thing you need to work through. You reach out, you're assessed, you're told someone will be in touch. Months pass. You're in the same situation you were in, carrying the same thing, with the same need to talk to someone — except now you're also managing the frustration of having asked for help and received a queue number.
The waitlist is not your fault. It's a structural problem. And you don't have to stay in it alone.
Between Therapy Sessions
For people who do have access to therapy, the gaps between sessions can be their own challenge. Your weekly hour is a container — but the rest of life happens in between. Difficult moments surface at 11pm on a Wednesday. Something triggers something, and your next session isn't for five days. What do you do with that?
This is a real gap. Not a crisis (usually), but not nothing either. The processing work of therapy doesn't stay neatly inside the sessions. It spills.
What "More Than Therapy" Means
There's a version of the mental health app market that promises to be "more than therapy" in the sense of doing everything therapy does, better and cheaper. This is usually not true. Therapy has real value, real training behind it, real relationship.
But there is something that mental health apps can offer that therapy, by its nature, can't: availability. Presence at 2am. Somewhere to put something the moment it surfaces, rather than in five days. The absence of an appointment, a waiting room, a bill.
Asclepiad isn't claiming to replace therapy. It's designed for a different purpose — and for the many people who need emotional support, don't have access to a therapist, and deserve somewhere to go.
Not a Chatbot, Not a Program
Asclepiad isn't a mood tracker. It's not a breathing exercise app. It's not a CBT worksheet generator. These things can be useful in their place, but they share a common limitation: they respond to what you report, not to who you are.
Maia, the AI guide within Asclepiad, is different in orientation. She's not looking for symptoms or outputs to measure. She's genuinely curious about what's happening for you — what you're carrying, what you're trying to make sense of, what would actually help. She'll ask questions and listen to the answers. She won't steer you toward a particular framework or outcome.
Over time, she also personalises. The longer you're in conversation, the more she knows of your history and your patterns. She's not starting from zero with every session. She's building a relationship with who you actually are.
And then there's Hortus — the keeper of old stories. Because sometimes what you need isn't analysis or advice, but a story that has carried what you're carrying before. The mythological narratives inside Asclepiad are chosen for you specifically, based on what you share. They're not generic. They're an attempt to find the story that fits your particular shape of pain.
For the People Who Fall Through the Gap
If you've been told you're not sick enough to qualify for crisis services, but you're struggling in ways that affect your daily life — you're in the gap that the mental health system has the hardest time serving. Too much for the self-help tier, too little for the clinical tier.
This gap is where most people actually live. And it's where Asclepiad is built to be useful.
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Waiting for a therapist? Struggling with the gap between sessions? Maia is available now. asclepiad.ai/?context=default
There’s no right way to begin. Start wherever you are. I’ll meet you there.
Your AI guide — here to listen, without judgment.
I keep old stories — the kind that tend to know things the person telling them didn’t expect.
Storyteller — old stories that tend to know things.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is this a replacement for therapy?
No. Therapy has real value that Asclepiad doesn't try to replicate. But for the many people who can't access therapy — or who need support between sessions — Maia is here.
How is this different from a chatbot?
Most chatbots respond with pre-written templates. Maia is a conversational AI companion who genuinely adapts to what you share, asks follow-up questions, and builds a relationship over time.
Is it really free?
Yes. No subscription, no paywall, no in-app purchases. Asclepiad is free because emotional support shouldn't have a price barrier.
Is my data private?
Completely. No sign-up, no email, no name. Asclepiad is anonymous by design — what you share stays within the conversation.
If you're ready to be heard — not fixed, not optimised, just heard — Maia is here.
Talk to MaiaNo sign-up. No programme. Just presence.