How dog training saved my life…
Written By Shelby Coolidge
What a way to introduce myself right?! I can’t deny its truth though, my knowledge of dog training saved my life. It’s more than that though, it healed my life and has allowed me to manage my mental and physical health in ways I once felt were impoissible. It transformed poor habits into healthy, fun, and sustainable ones. Habits I look forward to. It changed the entire trajectory of my life in unimaginable ways.
Karen Pryor once said “One possible application of reinforcement training is reinforcing yourself. This is something often neglected, partly because it doesn’t occur to us and partly because we demand a lot more of ourselves than we would others.” This woman was a genius. Thank you Karen for all the work that you did and the discoveries you made, rest easy Queen of the Click.
TRIGGER WARNING: This blog is a VERY personal account of my life and experiences. It includes references to sex, childhood SA (not depicted) lots of swears, dark humor, references to suicidal ideation, and general “inappropriate” nonsense. If you do not wish to know that much about me this blog is not for you. This blog is for educational purposes through personal experiences but does not replace any medical or professional advise when it comes to mental health or any behavioral concerns with your dog, please seek professional help everyone deserves a fabulous therapist to help navigate life. You may wander throughout this blog wondering what does talking about your sex life have to do with dog training and saving a life, you fucking freak? Well, as Elle Woods once said “I have a point, I promise!” But Shelby, seriously what does your trauma dumping have to do with my behaviorally challenged dog or my mental or physical health? My response is…Somewhere points are being made, trust the damn process and all the side quests that accompany them. But this is a journey, and should you withstand the traumatic events and cringy moments there is learning and knowledge sprinkled about like M & Ms. Or skittles if you aren’t a chocolate person…or gummy worms because those are actually superior…
My life was pretty typical I believe, grew up in a religious family. “Church raised” was a term I learned when visiting the South. They prided themselves on traditional values, and being a “complete” family that stuck together, no matter the cost. Everything considered taboo, kept hushed. Appearances must be up kept. This family was not without love, support, and kindness, but like every family there was also challenges.
One of which was mental health, we did not talk much about what that was or how to cope with it, instead we witnessed its destruction through those we loved. We did not communicate directly at all if I am being honest. This is not said as a dig at my family or anyones, but an observation of general lack of information and communication in regards so many things at that time, and cultural norms that created more problems than they solved. Due to the lack of information and lack of conversation I went through most of my life struggling in silence about the thoughts, feelings, and experiences that plagued my mind, and were happening behind closed doors.
Never wanting to be anyone’s burden, like others I witnessed also suffering, I masked it. I hide everything I was, and everything I felt and put on a fake happy face. That’s one thing that has really stood out to me as I’ve healed, my smile has changed. I became an expert at hiding the truth that lie beneath the surface, I put others wants before my own wellbeing, hoping it would buy me the love and attention I desperately craved. I thought if I was “good” and “helpful” I could buy a little extra love. I said yes to everything I could because I believed I needed to. That I needed to achieve to have value, but I rarely achieved and when I did I would panic about the attention and want to again hide in the safety of my shadows. I believed that staying quiet and following instructions was the only way. Mix in some garden variety childhood trauma and shit gets very messy, mentally. When you do not have the skills or tools or understanding of what is “wrong” with you it can bring you to some really dark places… I am grateful for this new life I have created for myself because of the training I applied to myself.
Without the healthy coping tools I adapted some really unhealthy ones, the most obvious on the outside was significant weight gain through binge eating and constant poor food choices in the name of convenience…and a hatred and lack of knowledge of cooking. At my heaviest I was almost 300 pounds, I was severely depressed, in deep burnout, angry, tired, lonely, sad. I was in and out of “the hole” of despair. All while pretending I was happy. When my wedding photos came back I cried, I hated every single one. I started working on my mindset then. I started working on my self love, my self worth, and committing myself to the idea that no matter what it takes I need to get better. After years of avoiding I finally went to the doctor, for not just my mental health but my physical one too. Stepping on that scale changed my life, I knew it was time to get my fucking shit together.
I broke in that office. Embarrassed, ashamed, feeling like gum on the bottom of a shoe. Not just because of my weight, but because I was now causing a scene at the doctors office. My breakdown had to be making them uncomfortable right? I felt like I was being dramatic and ridiculous. They did not show it though, they were actually really kind and supportive and wanted to help me. Weird.
I knew I needed to make changes, but I historically had been so unsuccessful I had no confidence in myself or my ability to change. I knew I needed to do something different. I had to find something that would work for me that didn’t involve insane and unreasonable diet and lifestyle changes that overwhelmed me. I left that appointment with meds to stabilize my mood and a hesitant determination. It was the first time, I was being treated for my mental health and I felt relief, like this was going to fix all the things I needed it to and soon I’d be happy right? Like this bottle was magic and it would open the door for me to fix everything else.
I also found an app called Noom, to help me lose the weight. I started therapy, and I started working on myself. This app asked you to login for 10-15 mins per day and you could learn to change your habits around food through knowledge and awareness. I committed to the challenge. The articles and exercises were incredibly useful and let me know I wasn’t alone in my habits or at fault, its just behavior, but change was up to me. It gave me easy to digest information, in bite size pieces and I found I wasn’t getting overwhelmed, and I was actually absorbing, retaining, and regurgitating the information back to others who noticed my progress. Weird. The minimal commitment time, and easily absorbed info got me hooked on the app, it became my hyper focus I was actually being consistent. I wanted to do everything right, and I was seeing real progress. I lost 85 pounds on that program, ran a half marathon…almost, and joined CrossFit. I had been actually successful at something, I had actually been consistent enough for change. And I felt…confident? Wild. Fucking Wild.
Intrigued? Bored? Have I weirded you in yet? Join me for page 2?
