When You Thought You Could Handle It (But Couldn't)

There are moments in life when you really think you’ve finally got it. You’re managing your obligations, you’ve built coping mechanisms that work for you, and you’ve certainly been through worse, so surely, you can handle this, too. 

Until something makes you realize you've just hit a point where you truly can't handle one more thing. 

It’s a deeply uncomfortable realization, especially for people who pride themselves on being resilient. But it's important to realize these moments don’t mean you’ve failed. They mean you’ve hit a hard limit that you should think twice about pushing past.

And I'm realizing limits aren't necessarily weaknesses, the way I was raised to think. They're information you can use to help yourself... if you choose to treat them that way.

The Moment Something Cracks

Sometimes the breaking point sneaks up on you. It’s not always the “big” crisis you expect. Sometimes it's something as mundane as an extra-tight deadline, a phone call, or some bad news you didn't expect.

For me, it was a jury summons. Something that would be a minor annoyance to most people.

I don't talk about it much, but I've suffered from anxiety and occasional panic attacks my entire life. I'm aware of some of my worst triggers and do my best to avoid or temper them. Others, I'm not as aware of, and they wind up sneaking up on me. Today, I found out the idea of having to show up and report for jury duty in person is apparently one of them.

I've received summonses before, but I've always been excused on check-in and never had to report in person. But this time was different. Instead of seeing that I was excused like usual, I saw that I'd be expected to report in person for the first time ever in my life by 9:30 Monday morning. 

I'd have to figure out how I'd get someplace half an hour away without private transportation. I'd have to spend my weekend front-loading my work week to prepare for the possibility of being seated on a jury. I'd have to basically not go to sleep Sunday night, because 9 AM for me is basically like 4 AM for someone else. And I'd have to do all this on the heels of a solid two months of non-stop stressful events and work overload instead of enjoying a badly needed rest.

And that's when it started happening. 

I felt my body reacting before my mind had even finished processing what was going on. My heart was racing. My vision was narrowing. I started feeling like I was going to throw up, pass out, or both. And then the dark, dangerous, irrational thoughts started –– thoughts like, "Well, if I killed myself, I wouldn't have to go." And that actually sounded like a brilliant idea at the time.

That brand of panic is something you can't logic your way out of, and I hadn't had a panic attack as bad as this one in quite some time. But it was real, and experience has taught me that I damn well better pay attention.

Because limits are real, even for strong people, and hitting one isn’t a personal failure. Something like a panic attack is a physiological and psychological fact. It's a signal that's trying to tell you something you need to hear so you can act accordingly.

Shame Makes It Worse

After a breakdown moment, shame loves to creep in. I know I personally hear things like:

• “Other people deal with worse.”
• “Why can’t I just suck it up?”
• “This shouldn’t be a big deal.”

But “should” is irrelevant when your nervous system is in freefall. And shame only compounds the damage by convincing you you’re not allowed to ask for help. The truth? Recognizing that you need help (and asking for it) is one of the hardest, bravest things you can do when you can feel yourself falling apart. It’s an act of self-respect, not surrender. 

That's how I wound up calling the jury commissioner, explaining the situation, and respectfully requesting to be excused. I also arranged to have a physical letter sent to the courthouse via priority mail by Monday, detailing the situation, so there would be something in writing explaining my absence.

Then I took my husband's advice and made an appointment with a therapist for this coming Tuesday. I've been dealing with a lot lately, I need help, and I decided it was time to ask for it.

So if you're going through something similar, replace shame with curiosity. Instead of “what’s wrong with me?” ask “what do I need right now?” It shifts you from judgment to problem-solving and gives you a place to go with what's happening.

When Support Actually Works

Support doesn’t always mean someone swooping in to fix it for you. Sometimes it’s someone calmly handing you a glass of water (and maybe an Ativan). Sitting nearby. Saying, “You’re not alone. We’ll figure this out.”

That’s what Seth did earlier when I explained what was going on because of this damn summons. It didn’t “fix” everything, but it interrupted the spiral long enough for me to figure out some logical next steps I could actually live with.

That's how I eventually wound up making a therapy appointment. Not because I believe one session will solve everything, but because it’s a step toward clarity and longer-term strategies that I need for handling life and taking proper care of myself. Seth asked me to arrange to speak to someone out of genuine concern, I did it, and I wound up feeling glad that I did.

So don’t underestimate the impact of small support. If you’re struggling, tell someone you trust what's going on, and listen to what they have to say. If you’re the one offering support, show up quietly. That’s often more powerful than pep talks.

Rebuilding Confidence After a Breakdown

It’s easy to catastrophize after a panic event. You think, “If I can’t handle this, what else am I going to fail at?” But one bad day doesn’t erase all your competence. The fact that you had to work so hard just to function is actually a testament to how much you’ve been carrying.

Confidence can be rebuilt, not by pretending nothing happened, but by acknowledging what did and continuing anyway. That’s what I’m doing now. Continuing. Slowly. Kindly. Yes, with a touch of embarrassment, because I'm only human, but also with more realistic expectations.

Reclaiming your confidence after a crisis starts with self-compassion, not more performance. Remind yourself of what you have managed, especially the invisible things.

You're Still You

Whatever your personal jury summons moment happened to be, know that it doesn’t define you. You’re still capable. Still creative. Still growing. If anything, moments like this show you just how far over the line you may have pushed yourself and offer you a valuable chance to recalibrate.

If you're in the middle of one of those moments, I hope you’ll take a deep breath, ask for what you need, and give yourself a little grace. You’re not broken. You’re adjusting, and that’s allowed.