I’ve been wanting to write this blog post for a long time now, but I have never got around to do it. But finally, I will write about how my three cats: Jaime, Texas, and Willy, helped me get over my depression (along with medication, therapy, etc).
How My Cats Helped My Depression
I got my first cat, Jaime, almost four years ago. I remember the little guy playing in his litter box when I first got him. He loved to play in the damn thing for some reason. He still has a weird obsession with the litter box.
Jaime was too small (or stupid) to jump on my bed, so I had to put a little box next to my bed so he could jump up. His brother, Texas, had to teach him how to get on the bed. I adopted my third cat, Willy, one year after I got Jaime and Texas. The original duo hated Willy at first, but eventually they grew to like him. Except Jaime. They don’t hate each other, but they don’t like each other.
These three little guys have been with me throughout a lot of important events in my life. They were with me when I started my first teaching job, proposed to my girlfriend, and when I went through my depression.
It’s hard to describe the emotional attachment I have to my cats. I never had a pet when I was a kid, so I never got to experience taking care of an animal and receiving their love in return.
A part of the reason I recovered from my depression was because of my cats. Let me explain.
When I was depressed, I didn’t want to do a single thing. Every little task seemed so difficult to complete. Getting out of bed was even difficult. But I had to do something every day. I had to feed my cats. It was something really simple, but it was something that I had to do. If I didn’t feed my cats, then they would die. If I didn’t give them water they would die. And if I didn’t scoop their poop….well it would just smell like crap. So I had to get off my butt and do this routine every day. I think that this routine really helped. When I was depressed I had a lot of time to myself, so actually doing something every day helped.
My cats were also always there for me. I bet there is no scientific evidence to support this, but whenever I was feeling really depressed, a cat would come next to me. Even today, if I sit on the couch there’s one or two cats on the couch with me. They made me feel like I wasn’t alone. And of course playing and petting my cats would always help with my mood.
Dogs are seen as being man’s best friend, but cats are mine. Cats do whatever they want and like to be trolls, but they are still loving creatures in their own way. Whenever I had negative thoughts, I would think about my cats and wonder how would they feel if I was gone? It’s a little morbid, but I didn’t want to cause them or anyone else any pain if I did something to myself. The little creatures helped prevent any relapses, and made me want to take care of them.
Although they were just a small part of me overcoming my depression, I think they were a very important part of my treatment. Sure, all they do is sleep, eat, and poop, but they also can be a great therapy for depression.
Think about your animals if you are ever struggling with depression or anxiety, and give them a love. I’m sure you’ll both feel just a little bit better.