I am wary of self-help books; they rely on generalizations about their readership, because they have to. There is no one-size-fits-all in terms of therapeutic advice, and every self-help book out there is going to miss a portion of its readership. And readers, I think, can tend to take anyone writing a nonfiction book, especially when one of the others has an "MD" after their name on the cover, as a god, their word gospel. I am similarly wary of nonfiction books that take a buddy-buddy view of their readership - like the authors are saying, "Look at me! I use swear words! I'm a real person, just like you! I'm different from all those other stuck-up shrinks writing books!" It can feel especially manipulative in a genre that requires manipulation to secure a contract.

That said, I think F*ck Feelings does an OK job at not being entirely the worst self-help book in the world. While not a replacement for actual treatment, it is a decent starting point to drive home its main points, which are repeated often: evaluate your actions against your values, introduce rationality into the equation when emotions are hot, and radically accept what you can't control. These are tenets I find agreeable, but really all of it seems pulled from DBT wholesale (except for the bits about being non-judgmental. These authors really like to be judgmental). If that's all you pull from the book, good. You don't need the rest of it, and truly, some of it was hot garbage. Sure, I don't need to agree with all of what a random self-help book says, but if I were one of those suckers who regards MDs as experts, I would definitely be more of an Asshole after reading this book. Here are some of the claims I find needlessly problematic, especially if other people grow to believe them: 

The casual tone, although something I'm skeptical of, was funny at times, and it did make the text more accessible, where many other books use academic language that alienates their readers. The tone is also more compassionate than you'd expect from the constant swearing. However, there were some points where the casualness was too much - some bizarre fatphobia, a flippant comparison between homosexuality and pedophilia (not in the bad way, but still a comparison), and some off-putting jokes, just to name a few. 

Overall, reading this book feels like a straightforward, adult conversation with some good things and some bad things. Really, this book is meant for neurotypical adults who have some Event in their lives that is shaking them up. It's not meant for people with chronic depression, anxiety, or suicidal ideation. But, again, you need to generalize if you're trying to publish a self-help book. I don't think I would ever recommend this to anyone, even though I did actually enjoy reading it. (For the most part.)