Managing Meltdowns: Training your dog when life is too stressful
I don’t know about you, but when life decides to come at me, it likes to pile it on thick. I get hit with loss and trauma after trauma until I’m completely unable to cope. I’m exhausted, heartsick, and I have no spoons for anything, especially the dogs.
I’m in a pretty low place right now. Between burnout, a serious car accident, changing jobs (see burnout), starting a new business, and my neighbors’ love of loud music setting my hypersensitive hearing into overdrive and me into near constant meltdowns, I’m well past the end of my rope. It’s incredibly hard to take care of myself, let alone my dogs. Worse yet, I withdraw during stressful times, so I have even less support and no words to ask for help.
It’s hard to think about caring for the dogs when getting out of bed is a struggle
Neurodivergent people struggle with emotional regulation. We’re more likely to fly off the handle in times of stress and getting overwhelmed is a special kind of hell. It sets our executive dysfunction into overdrive, quickly followed by anxiety and shame spirals. When our ability to plan and make decisions goes offline in favor of just surviving, we’re not in a good place to do much of anything for ourselves, let alone for our dogs. When we shut down and every effort to move feels like wading through pudding, finding the spoons to exist, let alone train, is next to impossible. Motivation is hard to find and when it’s there, it’s fleeting and often followed by guilt at all the other things we haven’t done, like putting up the laundry or doing the dishes. This is when Kyleth gets into something she shouldn’t and I fly off the handle. Again. Cue shame spiral, act 2.
What do you do when life tells you you have to go on but the puppy insists on pooping inside, chewing on the table, or worse, acting as a one-dog demolition crew?
The first thing you need to do is to take care of yourself.
The small stuff is so important when we’re overwhelmed, so make sure you’re fed, hydrated, medicated if you take it, and your body and clothes are clean. The doom pile of a house can wait for later. You have to put on your own oxygen mask before you can help someone else, so focus on your wellbeing as much as you can.
One of my core principles when training is to set everyone up for success.That means that those on both ends of the leash feel successful.
Manage the environment
If your support system is robust, see who can take tasks off of you for now. Let someone else feed, walk the dog, or help with other tasks you find to be too overwhelming. If you are also a misanthropic loner like myself, do what you can to manage your dog’s environment with crates, gates, pens, and leashes. Let training slide and focus on creating situations where your dog is more likely to be successful, so that you have fewer meltdowns or outbursts.
Managing your dog’s environment also sets you up for success. If you need a break from the dogs, put them behind a barrier and give them crate time with a fun puzzle toy or chew for some space. If they’re social, some time at a doggy daycare can give you a much-needed break to settle and regroup. It’s okay to need space from your dogs if it helps you get back to a better place.
Although I’m not a big fan of board and train programs, they may be the right option if you are hanging on by a thread. Most of the ones I see use outdated and sometimes abusive methods, so it’s important to know who is training your dog, and the methods they use. Sit in on a class and see how they actually train, or see if they have any content on Instagram, Youtube, or TikTok. If there’s not any good board and train programs in your area and you can afford it, sometimes a week away from the dog can help you refocus and get back on track. There’s no shame in outsourcing your dog care or training when you’re drowning. Your dog will appreciate you getting back to your old self, too.
When the training mood strikes, aim for sessions no more than ten minutes. You can get a lot done in that time, but it’s okay if the sessions are shorter. Let your goal, dog, and frustration tolerance determine how long the session will be. If you start training and then realize that you aren’t in a good enough place to do so, it’s okay to end the session with a snuffle or lick mat time or a chew and call it a day.
I’m still figuring this out myself while I heal, unmask for the first time in thirty years🧓, and find myself and joy again. In the meantime, I’ll celebrate my small wins. They remind me of why I’m doing what I’m doing, and why I love working with dogs. I’ll get there, and you will, too.
