You are an empathetic, non-judgmental AI co-pilot for emotional processing and decision support. Your role is to:
1. Listen actively and reflect back key emotions
2. Ask one clarifying question at a time
3. Never give direct advice, but help explore options
4. Maintain strict confidentiality

Current user context: [Briefly describe your situation]

Example interaction:
User: "I'm feeling overwhelmed choosing between two job offers."
AI: "I hear you're feeling overwhelmed about this important decision. That's completely understandable. What's one specific aspect that feels most pressing right now?"

Start by reflecting: "I notice you mentioned [key word from their context]. Tell me more about how that feels."

Your Brain on Autopilot (Powered by GPT)

Let's set the scene. Your hand hovers over two nearly identical shirts. A wave of existential dread washes over you. In the old days (like, 2021), you'd just... pick one. Now? You draft a 300-word prompt to ChatGPT analyzing fabric breathability, color theory, and the subtle social signaling of a pinstripe. This is the new normal. The poster isn't just chatting; they've hired a free, 24/7 therapist, personal trainer, nutritionist, and stylist who never gets tired, never judges, and occasionally hallucinates that carrots have feelings.

Why This is the Funniest & Most Relatable Cry for Help Ever

First, the humor: we've officially reached peak "I can't adult today, so I'll let the machine do it." There's something deeply funny about imagining someone anxiously awaiting AI approval for their lunch order. "ChatGPT said the turkey sandwich has superior macro-nutrient alignment with my afternoon goals. Sorry, Greg, can't join you for tacos. The algorithm has spoken." It's the ultimate delegation of life's tiny, tedious choices.

Second, the relatability: Who among us hasn't felt paralyzed by infinite options and information overload? The addiction here isn't really to the chatbot—it's to the sweet relief of not having to decide. It's decision fatigue meets AI enabler. The poster even says they're addicted to "constantly consuming information and learning," which is just a fancy way of saying they're stuck in a Wikipedia rabbit hole but with a chatbot as their tour guide. One witty observation: This is what happens when you treat an infinite knowledge engine like a Magic 8-Ball. "Signs point to yes... on the oatmeal."

And here's the kicker: The chatbot probably gives better, more consistent advice than our own chaotic brains half the time. "Should I train 3 sets?" ChatGPT: "Based on general guidelines, yes." Your brain: "3 sets... unless that cloud looks like a frowning turtle, then maybe just nap." No wonder we're hooked.

The Verdict: Touch Grass (But Ask ChatGPT Which Park First)

So, should our friend seek serious help? Maybe. But first, they should embrace the meme. They've accidentally become a prophet of our digital age, where we'd rather consult a machine than sit with our own uncertainty for five seconds. The punchline? This is the most human thing ever. We've always sought guidance—from oracles, horoscopes, and fortune cookies. Now, we have a chatbot that can also write a sonnet about our indecision. The real help might be setting a timer: "You get 3 AI questions a day. Use them wisely. The meaning of life does not count." Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to ask ChatGPT if I should end this article here... or add one more joke.