Self-Care and Social Care

We hear a lot about self-care these days. Much of the mainstream media seems to think that it means “shopping therapy,” indulgent desserts, spa days, and mani-pedis. Expensive things. Ones that you need to be able to leave the house to do. (Except for online shopping, of course.)

Businesses are also quick to suggest self-care for their workers who are experiencing stress. What they mean by self-care is to take up yoga or meditation — on your own time and your dime.

Real self-care may include yoga and meditation and even the judicious use of ice cream, but it’s much more than that, of course. Self-care begins with the things that we all know are good for both body and mind — exercise, healthful food, good sleep, and stress reduction. Other good habits often mentioned are a digital detox, mindfulness, journaling, gratitude, affirmations, prayer, fresh air and sunshine, and hobbies.

Those are good things, of course, but they are primarily solo things, or at least were while the pandemic had us cooped up. Now we can get out and about more easily, go jogging or hiking with a friend, invite people over for dinner, and generally add human companionship to our list of self-care techniques.

But maybe what we need is social care (also known as community care). It’s hard to define social care. One source I looked for mentioned advocacy. But that’s pretty much something we have to do for ourselves. There are organizations like NAMI, and they do a great job at advocacy, but there’s only so much they can do. There aren’t brain illness support groups the way there are for alcoholism, narcotics addiction, and other kinds of afflictions that require outside support. There aren’t Meals on Wheels-type services for people who can’t leave their homes because of crippling anxiety. (Of course, grocery stores deliver now, but it gets expensive.)

There are very few group homes for people with SMI who need to transition between the hospital and living alone. There are group homes (sober houses) for those with alcohol or other addictions and even prisoners on parole. Many people with psychological or psychiatric needs rely on family members as long as they are able. I know a woman who lives with her father because of her assorted diagnoses. We’re all worried about what will happen to her when her father, who’s not in good health, dies. Her mother, when she was alive, tried to get her into a group home, with no success.

For those who are able to leave the house on occasion, social networks are recommended as a form of self-care. And even for people who can’t go out, there are social media, email, and video chats, which can fill some of the gaps.

But social services are thin on the ground, at least near me. I live in a suburb near two medium-sized cities. Most of the services available are for the mentally disabled, physically disabled, seniors, and some respite care for caregivers. People with SMI get a list of the crisis numbers. And, of course, psychiatric beds are limited and even psychiatrists have months-long waiting lists.

I know funds are limited and that the other groups need care, too. But social care is needed for those with SMI, too. We’re dependent on tax dollars, which are hard to come by.

It’s worth noting that the National Health Service in the UK has many more programs accessible to those with SMI at little or no cost. Of course, those are functions of socialized medicine, which is not likely to be enacted in the US anytime soon.