Every time you survive what you thought would break you, your breaking point moves a little further out.

Your sense of your own limit is a guess, and it updates with evidence. Each time something you feared would finish you does not, the estimate moves, quietly and without any ceremony. You rarely notice it happening, because surviving does not feel like strength while it is going on. It feels like an ordinary awful day you got through.

Think back to what would have flattened you three years ago and ask whether it still would. Keep some record of the hard things you came out of, so the next fear has something to argue with. That list is almost always longer than memory suggests.