A house with wings to live independently and without stigma

Palm"Respect starts with yourself. If you don't have it, you don't know how to respect. You can't always be above others; everyone should be able to do what they want. No one is more than the other." This is how Manuel (56 years old) talks about what he considers important for living together. A few months ago, he shared an apartment in Inca with Luis (40 years old)—a third person who did not participate in the report lives there. Access to this home was made possible thanks to the work of the Es Garrover Foundation, one of the organizations that forms part of 3 Salut Mental—along with Estel de Llevant and the Gira-Sol Association. Mental health disorders are no impediment for these two friends, who claim they have never had an argument, even though they shared a room for a year in supervised housing before living in this apartment.

Shared apartments are a new type of housing for people with mental health disorders, and the goal is for them to achieve the greatest possible level of autonomy. "There are two areas of work, in addition to housing: the economy and the community," explains Antonella Silva, a support technician at Garrover. That is, managing one's own resources and connecting with the environment where one lives. Manuel and Luis pay a daily amount ranging from 3 to 13 euros, calculated based on each person's income.

Their stories are very different. Before accessing an apartment, Manuel spent 12 years on the streets, three of them with his pension seized. When he regained income, his main goal was to save until he could live in supervised housing. "That's where I met Luis. With him, there's respect and order," he says, and admits that he prefers the option of sharing an apartment with a certain degree of autonomy. "Since I've lived here, I haven't snored before," he says, and laughs when Luis confirms that he snored loudly.

Luis, on the other hand, lived with his godfather for a few years—his problems began when he was about 20 years old. Despite family support, he says he feels "very alone" because it was difficult for him to talk to those around him about what was happening. At the Community Rehabilitation Unit (UCR) for Mental Health, he was referred to housing. "I was doing very well, I could talk about my things, they listened to me," he says. But that apartment closed. "It was hard because I had made friends with whom I shared experiences." Luckily, she later met Manuel.

They both passed an assessment by the technicians and were given the opportunity to share this home in Inca. "You become more responsible. We clean weekly and cook. We distribute the tasks and rotate," says Manuel. "It's great here because there aren't as many disturbances as in a supervised home. There's more silence and tranquility, and fewer people. You're also more independent," emphasizes Luis.

They both attend an occupational therapy workshop. "Work gives dignity," says Manuel, and they can also do things like join a gym. "We encourage them to stay connected to the community," says the technician. And Manuel says that, when his leg was healthy—he recently had surgery—he went to aquagym. One of the things the friends share is the pleasure of listening to music. Manuel likes "melodic house," and Luis chooses "based on the feeling of the moment." He mentions singers like India Martínez and Pablo Alborán, and criticizes artists like Ricky Martin and Shakira for neglecting songs about love. Manuel watches more television than Luis—he prefers video games. "I like to stay informed, although politics has been rubbish these days. I also watch movies," he comments. He adapts to everything. When he was homeless and didn't have a television, he dedicated himself "to thinking." "I also read a book by Borges and wrote."

When it comes to shopping, Manuel doesn't like to spend a lot. In fact, he says he doesn't buy eggs because they're very expensive, and they had to convince him to bring a cake for his birthday. Saving is very important to him.

The important thing about this story is that this apartment in Inca they share has stopped being a house, a building, and has become a home. "Here we're not afraid of anything," says Luis. "It's been very difficult for me to approach people because I was afraid when I was alone and didn't know how to make a living. I had to have courage to keep from collapsing. My priority was food," says Manuel. For his part, Luis emphasizes the importance of sharing life with other people who have a disorder. "When I lived on the streets, I suffered from depression, but now I'm with wonderful people," adds his roommate.

An important feature of shared housing is that the stay is not indefinite. Its purpose is to allow people to finally live their lives. "It depends on how each person progresses," Silva points out. When this stage ends, Manuel wants to buy a van and adapt it for living, while Luis hopes to go "with a relative." "People like them have the capacity to worry about their future, obviously with support," adds the support technician.

Both say they are happy right now. "Being well is being happy," affirms Manuel. "After so many years on the streets, it's appreciated to have a home, your clothes, food, and a bed," he adds. For his part, Luis claims to be happy because he had "a good childhood." "What I've been through isn't as hard as Manuel's case. But I've gone from sharing a flat with strangers to being with people who also have a disorder, and it's better to bear it," he continues, and Antonella takes the opportunity to remind us that "we all go through mental health issues, even if they're rarely talked about."

Housing and the Stigma

The housing emergency affects people living with a mental health disorder doubly. Many of them survive on paltry pensions and cannot afford rent. Furthermore, they carry the stigma and prejudices of landlords. "'The owner prefers to rent the apartment to a family.' This is the response we've received many times, because I sent a letter to the advertisements explaining what type of entity we are," laments Gori Molina, manager of the Es Garrover Foundation. He also emphasizes that the entities are "solvent" and have "resources to support people." Tenants have consistently demonstrated their responsibility. "The owners who have rented to us have been surprised. We even have a repeat tenant who, after renting one apartment from us, rented another," he says.

One of the ways to secure rental housing has been to educate landlords about the organization's work. "We show them who we are, what we do, what their home will be like," she notes, asserting that the experience with the apartments has also served to "break some stigma." "This is a normal, everyday rental with normal, everyday people. Sometimes, it's assumed that behavior will be different from any rental, and in the end, it's the same," she claims.

Molina recalls that the goal of the project "is not the house, but rather for the person to have the most independent life possible." "It's difficult to achieve that autonomy if you don't have a place to sleep and shower. Then it's about making your own decisions," she continues. Feeling capable of doing so gives the opportunity to "live the way you want, without being conditioned."

For this reason, Molina points out that these types of resources "shouldn't be permanent." "They have to be temporary, because the intention is to move towards greater autonomy. We don't believe in fixed-term resources for this group. The case of an elderly person, for example, is very different, because the resource is theirs until the end of their life," he explains, and emphasizes that it is important that people with mental health problems "are not spectators of their own lives" but ".

However, Molina is aware of the great obstacle that prevents not only people with mental health problems, but many others, from being able to become independent. "Housing is already inaccessible for an average salary. Imagine a person with the minimum wage or a ridiculous pension. And we want people to be able to live instead of survive," he concludes.