Here`s another great article:
This is going to be a hard one to write about.
I have a puppy, it's been two weeks since we have been together, and he is at most 3,5 months old. I know that all of his actions are temporary, and most probably going to change, but hear me out, because I really seek advice right now.
I'm not the guy with the best mental. 21 years old, living alone in a maximum 50 square-meters home, with lots of parks nearby. I've always wanted to have a dog since I was a little kid, and never had the chance. And now that the pandemic was going to make me stay at home for a little more, I thought this was the best opportunity to have a little friend.
I knew that it was going to be hard, and I would need to change my routine completely, to make him fit in my world as I do my part likewise. I can't wake up late, I can't leave him alone for more than I should, I should always be alert, observing his behavior, and I was okay with all this, and It seems like somehow I manage to keep up.
But here's the thing. Even if I'm somehow able to keeping up with him, giving him good conditions (i guess) and adapt to the puppy routine, my mental is getting worse and worse every day. I start to feel the overwhelming the moment I wake up, and it's here until the moment I go to sleep. My home has 2 rooms, one bedroom and one living room, he's not allowed in the bedroom and I only go to there for sleeping, and changing clothes. Living in the same room with the dog for almost every second of the day, and %95 of the time makes my anxiety worse and worse. Even when he is still and silent, which is rare, I somehow stopped feeling his companionship, and I feel like I'm a person who is obliged to give him a good life, not making our shared lives better. I'm compromising for more and more each day, feeling less and less free, which was expected for his routine, but my kitchen being placed in my living room, my washing machine being placed in my living room, he is taking all the space, all the energy, and all my life more and more. I love him, I never want him to be sad, but this is feeling more and more each day like it's all for him. It was a shared thing, it supposed to be. But living alone in an almost single room apartment with a dog makes me feel like I'm a paid worker for him, not his companion. I try to schedule sleep times for him, opening soothing songs and never leaving my couch, every time I put my feet on the floor, he wakes up, follows me everywhere, bites me from behind, making it less and less possible for me to do my thing. My mental starts to worry my parents, they feel like I tried my best but the conditions are not suitable, me getting worse and worse makes them regret my decision. They were really supportive at first, they never questioned any expenses, I really feel I am trying my best to give him the life that he deserves being such a cute boy, but every day, I wake up a little bit more anxious, worried about the future of ours. Overthinking every action of his, and mine. Thinking about what's it gonna be like when he grows up. I start to question my decision. Even if when he grows up, spectacularly, with professional trainers, best behaviors and moods, I sometimes feel like this will always make me feel imprisoned in a madhouse, in a 25 square meters of room, with someone I should always care more than myself, utterly alone.
I invite all kinds of different friends of mine, for him to socialize, and for being able to laugh at his mistakes and actions. When they are gone and I'm alone, I find myself again waiting for him to sleep, waiting for him to calm down. Even when he is already calm.
tl;dr: I'm trying to give everything to my puppy who I love, maybe even more than myself. The physical struggle was obvious, but I've never expected the mental one to be this overwhelming. People start to worry about me. Should I re-home him? Am I a terrible person for doing so?
I know that it is really early, but every day he gets used to me a bit more, making the separation even more difficult for him. A decision like this should not be taken with months of thoughts, even making the anxiety more and more real. I sometimes feel helpless. He was supposed to be my way out, me overcoming all the obstacles, and having a friend for life. But my home begins to feel like a mad-house, I begin to feel like a servant, and even his cute, happy moments begin to project itself in me as anxiety, overthinking, and overwhelming myself. I really wanted for this to work. I am really trying my best, but I don't want the best moments of my life to be when I'm going to sleep.
Am I giving up? Or does it really feel like a bad decision for both of us. I really love him so much, but the situation makes it impossible for that love to be manifested in peace and serenity, and I'm worried as hell.
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