If someone had told me a few years ago that a small grey and white domestic shorthair cat named Layla would become my greatest companion in trauma recovery, I might not have believed them. Today, however, as a psychology enthusiast and someone who has lived with the weight of depression and complex PTSD, I can confidently say that Layla, my quiet, observant cat, has helped me more than many self-help books ever did.
Living with complex PTSD (C-PTSD) and depression often feels like existing in a world where the volume is always turned up too loudly and everything—every memory, every rejection, every silence—echoes painfully. Yet cats, I’ve learnt, live life at a different frequency; one that gently invites us back into the present moment, back into our bodies and, possibly, back into trust.
In this writing, I’ll share how Layla has helped me and why I believe more people should consider the powerful psychological and, even, spiritual support cats can offer, especially during deep emotional healing.
1) Safety Without Pressure
People with C-PTSD tend to live with hypervigilance—always scanning for danger, even in safe environments. It’s exhausting. Relationships, especially human ones, can feel risky and unpredictable. However. Layla never overwhelms. She never demands. She’s just there—watching from under the table or gently curling up beside me when she senses my negative mood.
Studies have shown that animals, particularly cats, can act as secure bases for individuals struggling with trauma. A systematic review in BMC Psychiatry highlights how companion animals help individuals manage symptoms of mental illness by offering emotional grounding and a sense of unconditional presence (Brooks et al., 2018). For me, Layla became a soothing presence who never asked for more than I could give, yet she always offered her full attention. She doesn’t try to fix me. She just stays. For a nervous system, like mine, that’s used to abandonment or threat, her stillness is healing in itself.
2) Routine & Purpose
Depression often steals any sense of motivation. Days blur, nights linger (insomnia ) and when everything feels meaningless, even brushing your teeth can feel monumental. Although this happens, Layla doesn’t let me disappear. She expects her food. She expects her daily attention and love. She walks me to bed with a flick of her tail and I follow. Her routine becomes mine. Her rhythm gently reintroduces me to structure.
This kind of structured routine can be life-changing. The American Psychiatric Association (2021) reports that 86% of pet owners feel that their pets positively impact their mental health, especially by giving them a reason to wake up each day and engage in basic tasks. For me, it’s not just the physical care Layla requires—it’s the emotional contract between us. She gives my days bookends and my foggy thoughts something to focus on outside of myself.
3) Purring: Nature’s Sound Therapy
One of Layla’s most magical traits is her purring. She doesn’t purr all the time—only when she’s especially relaxed or when I share my attention with her. That low, rhythmic hum is more than comforting; it’s genuinely therapeutic.
A study published in The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America explains that cat purring vibrates between 25 and 150 Hz. These frequencies promote healing in bones, reduce pain and may even support muscle recovery (Turner et al., 2001). However, beyond the physical, there’s a neurological benefit as well.
When I’m spiralling and she purrs on my lap, I feel my heart rate slow. My thoughts stop racing. The sound becomes a gentle anchor that’s warm and alive. Many believe that purring also helps regulate the parasympathetic nervous system which is responsible for rest and restoration—something trauma survivors often struggle to activate.
4) A Gentle Mirror for Emotional Awareness
People often say cats are mysterious, even aloof, although I’ve found the opposite. Layla reflects my energy like a mirror. When I’m anxious, she becomes cautious. When I’m calm, she sprawls across the bed or sofa with her belly up. She teaches me to notice my own emotional climate.
This subtle form of biofeedback is useful for people with C-PTSD and depression, who may have learnt to suppress or disconnect from their emotional cues. A 2012 study by Beetz et al. found that interacting with animals can release oxytocin, a hormone linked to emotional regulation, bonding and decreased cortisol levels. Layla’s presence reminds me to feel, not fear, my emotions.
When I cry, she places her paws on my chest or lap. It’s not dramatic. It’s not showy. It’s connection and when you’re used to emotional neglect or chaotic relationships, that kind of consistent, peaceful responsiveness can retrain your understanding of safety.
5) Spiritual Companionship Beyond Words
There’s something ineffable about living with a cat. Maybe it’s the way they seem to sense invisible things. Maybe it’s their connection to moonlight and shadows. I’ve often called Layla my “zen master”—a master of the unseen who reminds me to be still and trust.
In many cultures, cats are considered spiritual protectors. In ancient Egypt, they were believed to guard the home from evil spirits. Today, many spiritual practitioners believe cats cleanse and balance a home’s energy field. Whether or not you believe in such mysticism, there’s something deeply sacred about how cats hold space. Layla does it without judgement and words. Just presence.
For someone like me, navigating the long road of trauma recovery and the heavy fog of depression, Layla is more than a pet. She’s a companion in every sense of the word—psychologically, emotionally and spiritually.
Conclusion: Tiny Paws, Giant Impact
People often think of therapy as something clinical, or recovery as something structured, and it can be, but healing also happens in small, everyday moments. For example, the soft thud of paws padding across the floor when you’re crying alone. Or the comfort of knowing that no matter how bad the day has been, someone will curl up next to you as you fall asleep.
Layla has taught me that love doesn’t always have to be loud or complicated. Sometimes it’s quiet, steady, present and in that presence, there’s healing.
If you’re struggling with depression or trauma, I won’t say a cat will fix everything but I will say this: sometimes, a little fur, a warm purr and two curious eyes can be the beginning of something softer, safer and more alive.
References:
American Psychiatric Association. (2021). Americans Note Overwhelming Positive Mental Health Impact of Pets. Retrieved from https://www.psychiatry.org/news-room/news-releases/positive-mental-health-impact-of-pets
Beetz, A., Uvnäs-Moberg, K., Julius, H., & Kotrschal, K. (2012). Psychosocial and psychophysiological effects of human-animal interactions: The possible role of oxytocin. Frontiers in Psychology, 3, 234. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2012.00234
Brooks, H. L., Rushton, K., Lovell, K., Bee, P., Walker, L., Grant, L., & Rogers, A. (2018). The power of support from companion animals for people living with mental health problems: A systematic review and narrative synthesis of the evidence. BMC Psychiatry, 18(1), 31. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12888-018-1613-2
Turner, D. C., Rieger, G., & Gygax, L. (2001). The felid purr: A healing mechanism? The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America, 110(5), 2666. https://pubs.aip.org/asa/jasa/article/110/5_Supplement/2666/550913/The-felid-purr-A-healing-mechanism
Mystic Anomanly 