Their pancakes gave me a panic attack...

...and they weren't even that good

Yesterday I discovered I don’t know how to be proud of myself.

Wait, that’s the punchline.

Lemme back up…

In 2008, I lost my job, got evicted from my apartment, and moved in “temporarily” with Mom and Dad.

The shock of getting fired and evicted all in the same week was more than I could handle, and I allowed it all to get the better of me. I gave up on ever finding a new job, and I wound up living with my parents — entirely dependent on my dad’s income — for the next 14 years.

I was already struggling with undiagnosed PTSD, depression, and anxiety. When I started experiencing chronic pain, to boot, I just… couldn’t cope.

Eleven years later, in 2019, I finally was ready to admit that I wasn’t going to get better, and I applied for VA disability. Two years after that, my claim was approved, and I had my own money again, for the first time since 2008.

I started going to therapy, with the hope that I could learn how to manage my money and make choices that would lead me to greater happiness and fulfillment.

I still believed, back then, that I was destined to live with Mom and Dad for the rest of my life… but at least, if I had my own money to spend, I could finally add value to the household, instead of just being a constant drain.

And I could enrich my own life, too, because now I didn’t have to justify things like wanting $200 cowboy boots, or buying 8 different styles of hats — each one costing around $100 or more — or taking myself to the movies, or stopping at Wendy’s while running errands for my dad.

Therapy taught me a lot more than how to make good choices with my money, though.

I finally got my PTSD diagnosed, and we started slowly taking apart some of the more traumatic moments from my past… and little by little… week by week… I started to feel less “trapped” and more “empowered.”

In the summer of 2022, I decided I was ready to move out and finally reclaim my independence. I spent six months planning and preparing for this move, and in January 2023, I moved from my parent’s house in Seattle, Washington, to my own 2-bedroom apartment in Lubbock, Texas.

My goal when I moved was to simply survive on my own for one year, from January 2023 to January 2024. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, you know?

I didn’t have any plans beyond that when I moved to Lubbock… but once I was here, and realized how much time is in a day, and a week, and a month, when you live alone and you’ve got nothing but time to kill… my plans evolved pretty quickly.

I decided I wanted to pursue a career. (I didn’t think I could actually maintain a career, back in January 2023, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to pursue one…)

I went all in on copywriting — writing the text (copy) that gets used in marketing to persuade somebody to take action.

(Preferably, the action you want them to take, like “buy this product,” or “sign up for this newsletter.” Which reminds me, if you’re not a regular subscriber to the Success Comeback, make sure to drop your email in the box at the end of this post so you can receive my newsletter each week.)

I spent the rest of 2023 learning everything I could about copywriting. I took course after course. I joined Facebook groups. I went to a four-day writer’s convention in Florida and met and networked with 300 other copywriters!

And it all paid off.

In February of this year, I got my first client.

In March, I got my first paycheck. The first time since 2008 that I got paid to do a job.

I didn’t know what to do. True story, I’d been unemployed for so long, I could not conceive of any possible scenario in which I got paid to do anything! So it took me a minute to adjust to this new reality.

I didn’t know what to do, but I knew that other people often celebrate successes like this, so I decided maybe that was what I should do.

I told my friends and family the good news, and I tried to make plans with a friend here in Lubbock to go out to dinner and celebrate my reentering the workforce (and my fat paycheck!) We made plans, and they fell apart. And we made plans again, and they fell apart. And we made plans a third time, and I never heard back… so…

I decided (against my own protestations) to just celebrate myself… to take myself out for a celebratory dinner, in recognition of all the hard work I’ve done to get to the point that I have a job, and that I’m contributing to society, and that my life has more meaning and purpose than it has since I lost my job 15 years ago at the end of 2008.

Only since it was just me, and I was really wanting pancakes, I decided to do breakfast instead of dinner. Small detail.

So yesterday I took myself out to breakfast, to celebrate me and all my hard work, and all that I’ve accomplished in the last four years or so since I got serious about getting the help I need, and digging myself out of the pit I’d been trapped in for so many years…

And my PTSD brain is still so convinced that I’m “meant to suffer…”

Taking myself to a restaurant, and eating pancakes and eggs, alone, at a table all by myself, where undoubtedly every other person in the restaurant knew that I was alone (and probably because I don’t have any friends and I’m some kind of recluse they need to be wary of, because of course that’s what everybody thinks when they see someone in a restaurant all alone)…

I actually had a panic attack while eating my pancakes, and celebrating my new job, and the fact that I’m now, once again, earning a living — and not just sitting back and allowing the VA to hand me one.

Mind you, I still need the disability income, too. I’m not earning enough to support myself — yet. And honestly, I don’t know if I ever will. I haven’t fully tested the limits of my disabilities… so I don’t really know if I can make a living working from home part-time, or if I can only make enough to supplement disability.

But either way, earning a paycheck is a huge milestone in my story! And I know there are a lot of people on disability who can’t work at all. So I’m grateful that I’m one of those who can.

But I’m so used to seeing myself as someone who can’t, that now I don’t know how to acknowledge that I can. I don’t know how to celebrate my return to the workforce.

I don’t know how to be proud of the good I’ve done, when I’m still so accustomed to only believing the bad.

And that made me freak out at breakfast yesterday, and have a full-on panic attack while attempting to eat three very large — and sadly, not very appetizing — celebratory pancakes.

But I learned some valuable things from that experience. (Least of which is that it is possible to make bad pancakes… I didn’t know a restaurant could ruin something so simple…)

I learned that I don’t give myself credit for the good things I do.

I learned that I can do a scary thing (like going to a restaurant by myself) and I can be panicky, and still do the thing, and have it turn into a positive, reaffirming experience, instead of a horrible, negative, nightmarish memory, and something to be dreaded henceforth, for all time and eternity.

I learned that, while I do enjoy doing things with friends, I don’t have to wait for a friend to come with me, to go do something I want to do. I can take initiative now, and go do the thing, whether anyone else wants to come with me, or not.

(In other words, I can make my own fun now. I’ve taken that responsibility — and that wonderful opportunity! — upon myself. My enjoyment is no longer dependent on waiting for somebody else to want to do the thing with me.)

But perhaps the best lesson learned, is this:

I learned that it’s essential to celebrate success!

I’ve been angry, and frustrated, and feeling discouraged, because so many of the things I’m doing now, after almost a year and a half on my own, are really hard things, and I don’t always feel like I know how to handle them.

And when all I do is focus on the hard, and the negative, and the things that make me feel small and insignificant, and like I just ruin everything I touch…

And I never look at the successes I’m having, and the things I’m doing well, and the impact I’m having on other people…

I just wanna give up, and go back home to Mom and Dad, and admit that it’s all more than I can bear…

But when I celebrate my victories — even though the celebration makes me panic because I don’t really know how to focus on the positive!

It shows me that I’m capable of more than I recognize. And it encourages and emboldens me to stay engaged, and to believe in myself and keep pursuing my goals and dreams, even when they seem impossible.

Perhaps, especially when they seem impossible.

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P.S. Now that I’ve been to a restaurant by myself (even though it made me panic), I’m ready to go more places, and make every outing a positive experience — or, at least, make it not a nightmare. This little trick I learned from my therapist is how I’m going to keep my anxiety in check going forward:

When you find yourself in a situation that causes mild to moderate anxiety (like eating alone in a restaurant for the first time ever), go ahead and allow the anxiety to come and go… and just observe how it affects your perception.

Acknowledge your negative thoughts or emotions associated with the anxiety. Allow them all to “be there,” and just go on ahead and do the thing you came to that place to do.

Maybe take some deep breaths… maybe ignore the people at the next table if it makes you anxious to be around strangers… maybe hum to yourself quietly if that’s what you need to, or fiddle with a pen or a keychain or what have you… but just stay in that place, doing your thing, until eventually, your anxiety will start to fade.

It may not go down completely, and that’s okay. You just want to notice that it’s less than when it first started. So, like, maybe it’s gone from a 5 to a 3, or from a 7 to a 6.

When it has come down… notice that you are now less anxious than you were when the attack started… and take a minute and look around at your surroundings, so that your brain can see that you’re not in a scary place, and it doesn’t need to be on guard…

And if you do this often enough, then when you return to these familiar places, your brain will think it’s safe, and you won’t have to panic in that environment… and eventually (theoretically, anyway) you’ll feel more safe, in more environments, and you won’t have to be on guard so much of the time, and you might even be able to relax, and enjoy your surroundings.

That’s the hope, at least. I’ve done it before, though, and I’ve obtained those results. So I’m confident I can do it again. It may not solve everything, but it’s a step in the right direction.

Maybe you can try it, with something that makes you panicky, and let me know how it goes.

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