We’re on the cusp of a new Congress, and there’s a lot of talk about cutting government programs. This is not a political post. But it got me thinking about all the social programs I’ve relied on the past few years during my crisis and recovery. Here’s a short list:

• Medicaid health insurance (called Husky in CT)
• SNAP/EBT food benefits
• Social Security Disability Insurance (also known as disability)
• Wait list for low-income housing in my town
• Medicare health insurance
• Department of Social Services QMB program that pays my Medicare premium
• Discount on my electric bill for being low-income
• And now, the SNAP Employment & Training program that pays tuition for community college

I didn’t receive these benefits or navigate these systems all at once. It happened gradually over time as the need arose and I learned of new opportunities.

Maybe you have some thoughts and feelings about public benefits and the people who receive them. The first time I qualified for SNAP benefits when I was working low-wage jobs in my 20’s, I remember feeling so much shame around it. The second time, however, it was just relief. When I faced a health crisis in May 2022 and was no longer able to work, I suddenly had no income coming in and getting food benefits was essential.

Luckily, in addition to the public social safety net, I had a personal social safety net. My family was able to take me in and house me for two years, as I paid my bills from my savings (one more safety net, this one financial). I got on Medicaid/Husky health insurance soon after my crisis.

With these benefits, I was able to get the healthcare I needed, which, in the early days of my crisis, was a lot. In addition to the physical side of long COVID, my mental health needed support as my bipolar disorder emerged at the same time. It took three inpatient hospital stays, intensive outpatient therapy three days a week, weekly outpatient therapy, and ongoing psychiatric care to get me to where I am today. With Medicaid/Husky, most of this care came at no cost to me.

The value of this can’t be overstated. Because of social programs, I was not only able to access the care I needed to get better, but I also didn’t slip into medical debt because of the sudden emergence of a health condition. With 100 million Americans facing medical debt, including 41% of US adults, I count myself lucky that I got off with a $3,500 hospital bill that I was able to pay in $200 increments over two years.

There is a persistent stereotype that public benefits are easy to come by and easily taken advantage of. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Each of the programs I listed requires paperwork and know-how to complete, which, early in my crisis, I wasn’t able to do myself. I had a strong advocate in my mother who had experience guiding others through these systems. When you do get your paperwork in, there’s often a long wait, and you may get rejected and have to appeal, as many do for disability. All the while, you still need to pay your bills.

If, by the grace of God, you are approved and receive benefits, you have to continue to submit documentation to be sure the benefits continue, all the while trying to access a severely overloaded system and just get someone on the phone. Each of the programs I mentioned has a different application process and wait time. For disability, it was two years from when I became disabled to when I got my first check. Programs like Medicaid/Husky and SNAP function much quicker.

As mind-numbing the paperwork and bureaucracy can be, I have also found these systems to be humane. They want you to be fed. They want you on health insurance. They want you housed, although there is a frightening shortage of housing and years-long wait lists for occupancy. The social safety net, as such, works, in my experience.

But it also feels tenuous at times, like it could all be taken away with a keystroke. Every time you get a letter from the state, it’s opened with trepidation. Will they decide I don’t qualify anymore? This is most salient with my disability, the income on which my housing depends. Sometimes it feels like it’s all held up by threads, one thing contingent on another on another. But maybe this is true for working people, too. Are any of us ever assured of our income and financial health? We can be careful, but I went through a crisis, and many other people do, too.

The truth is, we need a social safety net. As I learned, we can all fall, and sometimes we fall hard. Because of social programs, I have a roof over my head, food on the table, high-quality mental healthcare, and specialist care for long COVID. I can even go to school and better myself and my job prospects for when I am able to reenter the workforce.

I guess that’s the value of social programs. As difficult as they can be to access, they’re there for us when we need them, to provide a life raft until we can once again take our first steps. Regardless of how you believe our government should be funded, I hope my experience shows that these programs serve a necessary function in our society. We can all fall, and some of us have more of a personal safety net to land on than others.

I will link to the above resources in the comments if you or someone you know is in need.