I believe in my ability to get through difficult times.

Getting through a bad month looks embarrassingly ordinary from outside. Dishes done late. Laundry in stages. Three meals that weren't good but were meals. Turning up to work and being fractionally worse at it than usual, with nobody at the next desk noticing anything at all.

There's no footage of survival that would make a decent scene. Which is why people so badly underestimate their own record — they compare an unglamorous grind against an imagined display of strength that nobody has ever actually performed.

You have done it before, in exactly that unremarkable way. The belief isn't optimism. It's a refusal to forget the last time, which you got through by doing small things badly and continuing anyway.