My Journey with My Cat's Anxiety: A Therapist's Reflection on Psychotropic Medication and Attachment Theory

As a therapist, I’ve guided many clients through emotional challenges, but caring for my cat's anxiety forced me to confront my beliefs about psychotropic medication. Recently, I made the difficult decision to put my cat Cillian on Prozac to help manage his aggression and constant fear. This experience has led me to reflect on the struggles surrounding medication, for both him and myself.

For a long time, I defended myself against claims that Cillian was not well-adjusted. "I raised him in a warm and loving environment!" I would insist whenever someone commented on his apparent aggression. I thought I had done everything right by providing a nurturing space filled with affection. Yet, the signs of his anxiety became too pronounced to ignore. Especially when my neighbor, who comes to feed him while I am away complains that Cillian often bites his legs when he enters the house or goes near his food.

I initially was unclear about where Cillian's aggressive behavior stemmed from, and also not ready to confront it. However, after my partner and I brought home our new puppy we realized we have to address this behavior in order for us to live harmoniously. After consulting an animal behaviorist, I learned that Cillian likely had attachment issues and/or trauma. I thought, Oh no, not him too! He must have had a disrupted bonding period with his mother during the critical early weeks of his life. Like humans, animals bond with their mothers in the first weeks via breast feeding and Cillian must have missed this vital connection before I brought him home at 12 weeks old.

This realization struck me hard. Even with a loving environment, I understood that Cillian's anxiety had deeper roots, those that I could not control.

The early weeks in a cat’s life shape their attachment styles, which influence how they relate to others, similar to humans. For instance, studies have shown that animals with a strong mother bond tend to display more secure attachment behaviors. My cat's behavior suggested that his attachment style was insecure, affecting his interactions with me and the world. He was constantly in a state of hyper vigilance. I also learned that cats that don't get proper socialization with their litter mates miss the opportunity of learning bite inhibition. This is when their siblings teach them to control the force of their bite so they don't cause injury to others. Well, the bite marks all over my arms will tell you that Cillian clearly missed this learning opportunity. His play bites often leave my bleeding. This perspective shifted my understanding and made me realize that my good intentions as a pet parent could not change those ingrained tendencies.

Choosing to medicate Cillian came with its own emotional challenges. As a therapist, I often advocate for the thoughtful use of medication for mental health issues. Yet, I felt shame in applying this approach to my furry companion. Was this a reflection of my own insecurity, or did it stem from biases against medication?

Conversations about medication can often be clouded with misconceptions. My clients frequently struggle with the stigma attached to mental health treatments, and here I was, questioning myself. I wondered if I was failing as a cat mom, unable to help him naturally.

Throughout this journey, I identified my own cognitive biases when it comes to taking psychotropic meds and what that means as a pet mom. I recall the first time the behaviorist suggested Cillian start the meds, if the behavioral modification was ineffective, and I cried. I felt sorry for him and like I failed him as a parent. The second time the behaviorist brought up the medications after trying and failing behavioral modifications (such as giving him 25% less affection and buying him more interactive toys to exert his innate prey drive), I cried again with a feeling of defeat. "What is wrong with my baby that he needs meds?" I thought. I immediately recognized the distorted belief as I have heard countless patients make this same statement as resistance to getting on meds for themselves. And what do I tell them? I reassure them that there is nothing wrong with them, and some people just have different neurochemistry and need more help. Similar to a diabetic who takes insulin shots, or someone with HBP, there should be no shame in taking something that will help you.

I came to understand that there is a crucial distinction between accepting medication as assistance and resorting to it as an easy way out. This process taught me that medication should not be viewed as a quick fix but rather as a valuable tool for healing. Similar to how I approach this with my patients, I advocate for both psychotherapy and behavioral techniques as adjunct to psychotropic meds. For Cillian, this means we will continue working with the behaviorist while allowing the meds to assist with his neurochemistry. Prozac, an SSRI specifically helps with the neurotransmitter serotonin which regulates our mood.

The behaviorist assured me that the meds will not only help modify Cillian's aggression towards people and the new puppy, but it will help him feel better. That is exactly what I needed to hear since this is also how I counsel my patients. If we take all of the stigmatization away from needing to take psychiatric medications, don't you want to feel better? This is a choice you make as an adult, and a choice I had to make for my pet. It gave me such comfort to consider that Cillian will no longer be in a constant state of fear once the medications became effective. I was on board!

Reflecting on Cillian's anxiety illuminated the complexities surrounding mental health and treatment. My experience serves as a reminder that being a trained therapist doesn't exempt one from encountering biases or facing tough decisions.

Moving forward with Prozac as part of the strategy to ease Cillian's anxiety, I remain committed to understanding his needs and reflecting on my own beliefs about mental health and medication. Ultimately, growth arises from reflection, connection, and the willingness to adapt, whether for ourselves or our beloved pets.

In our journey together, I hope to redefine what it means to love and support one another, fully acknowledging that sometimes, that requires accepting help when we truly need it—regardless of its form.