In support of support groups
Leo writes about his experience with support groups and how he went from doubting their effect to fully supporting them himself.
Content warning: This article contains mention of mental illness.
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I used to doubt the true potential of support groups. They had always been suggested to me as an additional layer to my already extensive list of mental health support. I met with a therapist twice a week, saw my dietician once a week, and met my psychiatrist twice a month. While rigorous, this is pretty standard programming for someone who had just stepped down from an intensive outpatient program. However, I was also a full-time student and worked part-time at a local mental health non-profit—so it is safe to say that I was very busy. Since I was already attending sessions with such a wide range of professionals, it felt almost laughable to think that I would gain anything significant from talking to non-professionals who knew nothing about me. On balance, I just did not believe that the perceived benefits I might reap from a support group would outweigh the time and energy I would ultimately lose.
And then on a whim, and despite still feeling sceptical, I began attending a weekly ‘teen mental health’ support group at my nearby medical foundation. The common thread was that we were all struggling with mental illness in some way, shape, or form. Other than that, we were strangers. I knew nothing about these people and they knew nothing about me. Could talking to strangers really help me after all? It turns out that the answer was, yes!
Research shows that people often underestimate the value of moments of connection with new people, and actually benefit more than they expect from this. Gillian Sandstrom, a social psychologist and researcher at the University of Sussex, has demonstrated that seemingly trivial social experiences can positively influence a person’s sense of belonging. Her research shows that not only do people underestimate the amount of time they will willingly spend talking to a stranger, but that they enjoy the conversation more than they expected.
I was definitely one of ‘those’ people that Sandstrom’s research highlights, but I had no idea of this at the time. However, it wouldn’t be long before I began to realise the power of support groups. By the end of my first group, these so-called strangers didn’t seem so strange anymore. Despite the fact that we all came from different places and had different stories to tell, I felt a unique sense of belonging that I had never felt anywhere else. These were people who I knew would not judge me regardless of what I did or did not bring into the space. Family is often complicated despite their best intentions, and friends are fantastic, but they do not necessarily possess the level of intimate understanding that is almost always required by the individual in need of support. There’s something special about this ‘no strings attached’ mentality that support groups entail. Nothing is “too strange” or “too anything” in support groups. You come and go as you are within that hour, and that is simply it. I felt held by the space itself and cradled by unconditional support. As I came to learn more about people’s roots, the individual and collective connections only grew from there. It was as much of a privilege to be a witness to the space as it was to be in this space myself.
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Even science supports the health benefits of this type of social connectedness. For example, the Polyvagal Theory is a neurophysiological perspective that details how the push-and-pull nature of the autonomic nervous system correlates different physiological states with three different classes of behaviour: social communication, mobilisation, and immobilisation. If an environment is perceived as safe, the body’s physiological state will adapt to that sense of safety. This optimal zone of arousal is characterised by social communication, and is nicknamed the “rest-and-digest” state. Here, the parasympathetic branch takes over and lowers heart rate, increases digestion, and promotes overall relaxation. This effect can be seen via heart rate variability (HRV) assessed by an electrocardiogram (EEG). High levels of social connectedness are associated with a higher HRV, and ultimately mean emotions can be tolerated and integrated more easily.
My initial scepticism faded quickly as I became more intertwined with the group. This single hour of time each week would soon become an integral part of my mental health tool box, practically on par with the benefits gained from my various professional appointments. The people in this particular group would become my honorary family, whom I will always carry in my heart.
