ALT My therapist said I should write a journal to alleviate my anxiety. So here we are. Happy now? The first thing you need to know about me is that my therapist isn't even fucking real. It's an employer-approved algorithmic cognitive behavioural therapy app. The mental health equivalent of that peppy little paperclip that used to pop up in word processors, shouting: “It looks like you're trying to write a letter!” Yeah? What gave me away? Smug little prick. Well, now he’s back, armed with a counselling certificate, saying stuff like: “It looks like you're trying to have a breakdown!” Yes. Please just let me get on with it. Mind your business. So that's my therapist. This is my journal. And I can tell you so far, it isn't helping at all. *** Okay. I'm going to try. The problem is, the world is falling apart. People are falling apart. We got so used to shouting at each other online, leaning into our most divisive opinions – egged on by fuckwit politicians and culture war comme