Balancing Your Cat Brain and Dog Brain
A tale of two neurodivergent brains (spoiler alert: both mine)
As ever, take what works for you, and watch out for any uncomfortable thoughts and physical feelings when you read this (and do you think that’s your Cat brain or your Dog brain at the helm?)
I often joke with my friend, coach
, that my brain has two modes: CatBrain and DogBrain.Me: I signed up for another three “Improve Your Life Immeasurably” courses this week, I’m so excited!
Emma: So, DogBrain’s driving today?
Later that day…
Me: I can’t publish/ship/start/finish anything this week, it’s all crap and I’m a trash human being.
Emma: Hi Cat. Could Dog come out to play for a bit?
Ok these aren’t conversations we’ve actually had, but I reckon they are pretty close to what Emma is thinking.
CatBrain and DogBrain operate very differently but occasionally almost simultaneously which makes for interesting times. Dog is ready for anything, EVERYTHING, usually doing fifteen things at once, and has zero filter. He’s bouncy, enthusiastic and will you Just. Throw. That. Ball. Already, come on, let’s gooooooooo.
Cat, meanwhile, is wide-eyed and apprehensive. Measured. Thoughtful. Sometimes mercurial. Completely in control. And gets dragged along for the ride when Dog takes off.
It’s like being controlled by the Siamese cats from The Aristocats while living in the body of Dug from Pixar’s Up. Up was the movie that my husband and I went to see on our first date, and if you know the beginning of that film… I think I had welts on my palms from digging my nails in so hard to try to avoid bawling my head off during the Karl and Ellie montage in case he thought I was weird but turns out he was trying to not cry too, then just under two years later, Married Life from the Up soundtrack played when we walked down the aisle at Marylebone Registry Office. No, NOT the sad, slow bit at the end, the jaunty starting part. No allusions to dead wives or lonely old age. I’m seven years older than my husband so does that make me more or less likely to have a lonely old age?
See that there?
That’s unfiltered Dog.
Cat is dying to get her claws on the delete key and ravage improve that paragraph. Cat doesn’t like it when Dog overshares, she could replay this moment for weeks, nay, months. Might even put it into the ‘Repository of Mortifying Moments’ (ROMM) that she keeps to dip into when things are going too well. “Why can’t you appear professional?” she mewls at me, “or vaguely normal?”
That kinda hurts Dog’s feelings, tbh.
Dog is just doing his best to keep us going, us being everyone that’s here in this leaky boat of a brain of mine. Which some days is a cruise liner, other days is the Marie Celeste and occasionally feels like the Titanic.
Cat isn’t all bad. (Honestly, she’s not even as bad as our real cat, Sparkle, who sideswipes small children for fun and has systematically destroyed most of the carpets in our house. How dare we ever close a door to her.)
I feel like Cat is often just trying to keep me safe, and she’d ideally like to me stay masked and show a little restraint. Cat needs permission. Cat isn’t intuitive, but a rule follower. Cat gets stuck in Freeze. Physically.
She feels everything, while also being able to hear goddamn electricity, and doesn't know what to do with herself, and the safe thing is to do nothing. Her feelings are too big so she has to put all the brakes on, now. All the restraint. Cat is shutdowns.
Dog is meltdowns.
Sometimes that well of kinetic energy that fuels the enthusiasm can turn on you, inwards. Going full pelt is terrifying when you’re directing that energy towards yourself in a destructive way. For me, it’s horrific self-talk. Just because Dog is all up for putting us out there doesn’t mean he isn’t cut to the bone by rejection, whether experienced or conjured up. When his enthusiasm isn’t reciprocated, it can bring on intense sadness, plus trigger RSD.
Cat’s actually pretty helpful here, reminding him that he can take his enthusiasm somewhere it’s welcomed.
Cat is still shocked that apparently we’re writing a newsletter (about WHAT? to WHOM? and WHY?) and worries it’s not professional enough, with a side order of ‘and who do you think you are anyway’.
Dog is thrilled at the thought of new people to talk to, big waggy-tail energy going on now. Especially since there are now 50 subscribers to this newsletter - whaaaaat? That’s amazing! Also he reckons that showing up authentically — and boy is there a lot of authenticity, if not sense, in this newsletter — is the most important thing.
He’s also a little sad that Cat doesn’t trust him. Ok his enthusiasm has landed us in some weird situations, but also into adventures. You gotta try…
I’m learning more and more about how to manage the CatDog brain, first with an ADHD diagnosis and then a self-diagnosis of ASD. I want to be clear though that it’s not a direct correlation, one diagnosis for each part of my brain, and to be careful to avoid the myths that plague ASD. Understand my brain better.
Is it easy? Oh god, no. But that’s why I write, to work my way through a lot of the feelings. Also because therapy is expensive and murder is still illegal. And to make connections. Find my people. Apparently, I’ve already found fifty of you!
Right, Dog and I are off to make plans to take over the neurotypical world and smash the systems… right after I cook tea.
I would love to hear from you whether you recognise this sort of dichotomy in your thinking and behaviour, and how you deal with it? Does it help or hinder your writing?
Six Ways our CatDog brains help Writers with ADHD and ASD
Leaning into DogBrain for drafting fast, and CatBrain for detail-perfect, persnickety editing
Letting Dog take you on research adventures, down internet (and IRL) rabbit holes; trust Cat to take the notes and store them somewhere sensible that you’ll find them when you need them
Cat listens to feedback, especially unsolicited, and restrains Dog from attacking
When you’re meeting new people at a writing meet up or conference, Cat reminds you to be attentive and try to remember names, and Dog waves at you from the middle of the dance floor at the afterparty
Cat meticulously checks that query letter and catches Dog’s few errors or typos, and Dog bravely presses “Send”
Cat tentatively puts a paw on yours when Dog is crushed after a rejection, and then leads you back to the laptop, her tail twitching in the air until Dog picks himself up and follows
I really loved your breakdown at the end of the different roles the cat and dog brains have.
Love love love this x