a cat’s guide to trauma
Nine lives means a lot of experience with trauma.
My cat’s name is Scout, and she’s terrified of many things that would never hurt her—vacuum cleaners, fireworks outside, blue IKEA bags, the Dalmatian down the hall, family members who want to cuddle her too close.
Once in a while, though, there’s real danger. This morning the top shelf in the bedroom closet collapsed. It brought down an avalanche of boxes, suitcases, framed pictures, and the closet rod full of clothes. Wood splintered, glass shattered, and the walls shook. It sounded like a bomb going off.
Two minutes before that, Scout had been in that closet. It’s one of her favourite places because she feels felt safe there. I won’t let myself think about what would’ve happened if the closet apocalypse had come a few minutes sooner. And she saw it all come down.
Let’s call that a traumatic event for Scout. (Sometimes we call the event itself a trauma, but usually trauma means the awful effect the event has on us.)
And let’s have Scout show us some things we need to bounce back from trauma.
Animals can be so instructive because they don’t get confused about what they need. And they don’t hesitate to get what they need. In this case, safety, autonomy, connection, and a story.
What does Scout tell us we need after a traumatic event?
1. Safety
After closetmaggedon, Scout immediately disappeared to a safe place. She stayed under the couch in the other room for over an hour, not making a sound.
A trauma shows you the world isn’t as safe as you’d thought.
You can’t be okay until you’re safe again.
And until you can convince yourself that you’re not in danger.
2. Autonomy
Once she came out of hiding, Scout wouldn’t come when called, and insisted on doing only what she wanted. She was even more demanding than usual, if that’s possible.
During a traumatic event, you experience an unbearable loss of control.
You might think you’re powerless now.
To heal from the trauma, you need to get that control back.
Make choices.
Exercise your agency.
Notice the things you can control, and work toward adding things to that list.
3. Connection
Eventually, Scout started following me around. She brushed against me and asked me to chase her. Then, when I bent down, she pressed her nose to mine. She needed to be close.
We’re not all people persons. You might be a loner, introvert, or misanthrope like some of my favourite people are.
Maybe you think people suck.
But even loners are better off when they connect with others.
We’re wired for it, and we need each other.
Trauma expert Bruce Perry points out that the more healthy connections we have, the better we can recover from trauma and thrive.
He tells us,
“Relationships are the agents of change.”
4. A story
When she was finally ready to approach the now-demolished closet, Scout looked like an adorable Sherlock Holmes collecting clues. She was taking notes—absorbing details, understanding what had happened and what was broken, noticing what had changed and how much had been cleaned up already. She was creating a story of the closet that made sense to her.
You’ll have to tell the story of the trauma—even if only to yourself.
(But it’s better to tell it to someone else, for a bunch of good reasons.)
Tell it more than once—it’ll probably take a few drafts and rewrites.
What happened? Why? What does it mean? Is it going to happen again? What can I do here?
Eventually, you’ll need to see the traumatic event as more than just the worst thing that ever happened to you.
Maybe you’ll find positive meaning from it.
Maybe you’ll learn something difficult but important.
Maybe you’ll get stronger because of it.
That’s all part of the story.
And the story needs to make sense to you, because it’s yours.
That’s all I have time to write. It’s late and Scout wants to play now. (But not in the closet.)