Having quit two consecutive jobs I was unemployed. With psychotic depression I lacked insight that I was poorly. DWP welfare benefits came as a surprise therefore, because I'd incorrectly accepted that my last resignation meant no benefits for six months, because I brought joblessness on myself.
NHS CPN services do not necessarily cover private patients. Despite that I had its support later on. I had however moved to a different NHS Trust, and later still I had an NHS psychiatrist as well.
There was a hospital in my mum's area called Winwick. It was a gigantic, self-contained mental asylum. It offered a farm, kitchens, recreation areas, laundrette, carpentry shop and everything you might think of. Such places were quite common in the earlier part of the 20th century, and somewhat before. The development of the first antipsychotic, Chlorpromazine, in 1950, and the psychotropic drugs that followed, such as tri cyclic antidepressants, SSRIs and atypical antipsychotics, etc., meant that most of these asylums were closed, in favour of "Care in the Community." Of course neither approaches are perfect.
Winwick hospital was demolished around the turn of the millennium. Its iconic tower still stand amidst an estate of desirable homes.
Without my mother in 1992 - 1993 I would have been isolated. She helped further by contacting the Social Therapy / Outreach department of Winwick Hospital.
A man called Jack followed up her enquiry by ranging me. Apart from me learning the piano, it was the first step in a monumentally long journey to recovery, or put simply, to the beginning of my life.
Even after thirty years I still remember the room I was in when I took that call. I remember what we, mostly Jack, talked about. I remember the tone and manner of Jack's voice. He was a one in a million type. My late father would have called him 22 carat.
The group mostly stayed in, but we did some local ten pin bowling and occasional fishing, etc. There was a music room with a piano. That was fun sometimes.
The social therapy department was good, people were nice, we had some laughs. However, since moving on from it, I've had much more recent contact with similar groups, and I'm not sure they're conducive to you leaving. I say so because it would be tricky to suggest to a vulnerable person that they should take a risk. It might be seen in the wrong way all together: a victimisation, or bullying even.
Ironically, there is a danger in the safety of the status quo.
I know of an organisation local to me, which is more aimed at the acquisition of skills, with a hope that people work again. Many who attend it are not necessarily mentally ill, but are quite likely to have some such issues. Typical skills on offer tend to be practical rather that intellectually challenging, but it works for some. Preparation of food, and café running might be attempted. Things like foundational maths are popular also. Access to external courses help a smaller number.