Chapter 1: If You’re Reading This, Please Hold On

If you’re holding this book, chances are you're in a battle nobody else can see.

Maybe you haven’t slept in days.
Maybe you’re surrounded by people and still feel completely alone.
Maybe the thoughts in your head are louder than the world around you.
And maybe—just maybe—you’re wondering if it’s even worth it to keep going.

We get it.

Not in the shallow, “thoughts and prayers” kind of way. We get it because we’ve been there too—curled up in a bathroom, hiding in a truck cab, fists clenched, heart racing, trying to breathe through the weight of the world pressing down like a boot to your chest.

This book isn’t going to fix everything.
But it will sit with you in the wreckage.
It will remind you that even in your lowest moment, you are not broken beyond repair. You are not weak for needing help. You are not crazy.
And you are absolutely, without a doubt, not alone.

We built November Lima Bravo for you.
For the veteran who can’t shut off the war.
For the survivor who still hears the echoes of violence.
For the first responder who saves everyone except themselves.
For the civilian who’s silently drowning in trauma no one ever saw coming.

There’s no sugarcoating here.
But there is truth.
And the truth is this:

You’ve made it through 100% of your worst days. This is not where your story ends.

You don’t have to believe that yet.
We’ll believe it for you until you can.

So flip the page.
Take the next breath.
Hold on.

We’re not going anywhere.

Chapter 2: The Battle No One Sees

Most people don’t recognize a war unless they can hear the gunfire.

They don’t see the invisible wounds—the sleepless nights, the hypervigilance, the guilt, the shame, the flashbacks, the way your body still reacts even when your mind says you’re safe.

You walk into a room and scan for exits.
You sit with your back to the wall.
You don’t trust silence because that’s when the noise gets louder.

This is the unseen battlefield—and it’s one of the most dangerous places a human being can exist.
Because in this fight, there are no medals. No parades. No uniforms.
Only scars, silence, and survival.

And you’re surviving it.

Every day that you show up—however messy, tired, or triggered—is a win.
You may not feel strong, but strength isn’t measured in how loud you are. It’s measured in how many times you keep standing back up.

So if your hands shake when you hold the coffee…
If you cry in the shower because it’s the only time no one will hear…
If you haven’t told a soul what really happened because you don’t have the words…

You are still a warrior.

This isn’t about who can “tough it out.”
This is about learning to fight in a new way: with therapy, with support, with boundaries, with breath, with faith, with the decision to stay.

Nobody tells you how hard healing can be.
Nobody tells you how lonely recovery feels.
Nobody tells you that sometimes, just existing is an act of resistance.

But we will.

At NLB, we honor that fight.
We don’t care how long it’s been or how far you’ve fallen.
We care that you’re still breathing. Still trying. Still here.

You’ve got people in your corner now.
You’ve got a mission bigger than pain.
You’ve got a field guide in your hands—and we wrote it for you.

You are not weak. You’re wounded—and wounds heal.

Let’s keep walking.

Chapter 3: You’re Not Weak—You’re Wounded

They’ll call you weak because they never saw the war.

Because you didn’t bleed where they could see it.
Because you flinch at fireworks.
Because you have panic attacks in crowded rooms.
Because you cry during commercials and don’t know why.
Because you wake up some nights and can’t remember where you are.

But let’s get one thing straight:
You are not weak. You are wounded.

And there is a difference.

Weakness is giving up when the path gets hard.
Wounded is limping forward anyway.

Weakness is pretending nothing’s wrong while hurting others.
Wounded is hiding the pain because you don’t want to burden anyone.

Weakness is using trauma as an excuse to destroy.
Wounded is fighting every day not to let it win.

You don’t owe anyone an explanation.
You don’t owe them a performance of “strength” that doesn’t allow for shaking hands, breaking voices, or quiet days spent just surviving.

You are doing the best you can with what you’ve got. And some days, that’s heroic.

Wounds demand attention.
Wounds demand care.
Wounds demand time.

And healing is not a straight line.
It’s a battlefield of its own—one that you navigate every day without medals or maps.

So the next time someone questions your resilience, remember this:

You are still here.
You are still breathing.
You are still trying.

That’s not weakness.
That’s warrior work.

Keep going.

Chapter 4: Building a Safety Plan When Life Feels Unsafe

When your mind turns against you, you need more than hope—you need a plan.

We’ve all had those moments.
When the thoughts won’t stop.
When the silence is deafening.
When the urge to disappear feels like the only way out.

But here’s the truth:
Crisis doesn’t mean failure.
It just means you need a map through the storm.

That’s what a Safety Plan is—your personal guide for when things fall apart. Not because you’re weak. But because you’re prepared.

Step 1: Identify Your Triggers
Write down what pushes you closer to the edge.
It could be a certain date, smell, place, sound, or conversation. 

Knowing what sets you off isn’t weakness—it’s intelligence.

“What I can name, I can manage.”

Step 2: List Your Anchors
Who or what brings you back to yourself when you’re spiraling?
This could be:
- A family member you trust
- A service animal
- A memory
- A song
- A quote that reminds you of your why

Keep this list somewhere you can access even in chaos.

Step 3: Build a Lifeline List
Write down three people you can call, text, or message when you're not okay.
Include names, numbers, and backup options (like crisis lines).
You don’t need to explain everything—just say, “I’m not okay. Can you sit with me for a minute?”

And if no one answers?

That’s what the next chapter is for.

Step 4: Know Your Escape Routes
When a place, situation, or person becomes unsafe—what’s your exit strategy?
- Where can you go immediately to be safe? (a friend’s house, a hospital, even a parking lot)
- How do you get there?
- What do you need to bring?

Have this plan in place before you need it.

Step 5: Create a Crisis Kit
Fill a small bag or digital note with:
- Reminders of your strength (letters, quotes, photos)
- Phone numbers of support people
- Emergency contacts
- A grounding tool (stone, fidget, scent)
- Notes to yourself: “You've survived worse. Breathe.”

This plan doesn’t make you weak. It makes you ready.

Just like a firefighter doesn’t wait for flames to build a hose line—you don’t wait for the worst day to figure out how to survive it.

You're not just trying to live.
You’re fighting to stay safe, sane, and standing.
That’s courage in motion.

You’ve got this.

Chapter 5: Reaching Out Without Shame

They say “just ask for help”—
Like it’s easy.
Like it doesn’t feel like failure.
Like it doesn’t burn to say the words out loud.

But the truth is, reaching out can feel like one of the hardest parts of healing.
Especially when you’ve been taught to suck it up.
To stay quiet.
To not “be a burden.”

Let’s get something clear:
Needing help does not make you weak. 

Staying silent when you need it most—that’s what breaks people.

Pain doesn’t make you less valuable.
It makes you human.

And if the people around you don’t understand that?
That says more about them than it does about you.

HOW TO REACH OUT WHEN IT FEELS IMPOSSIBLE:
- Use simple words. You don’t need a speech. Try:
  - “I’m not okay.”
  - “Can we talk?”
  - “Can you just sit with me for a minute?”
  - “I’m having a rough time. I don’t need advice—just support.”

- Choose your safe people. Not everyone will get it. That’s okay.
Find the ones who do. And if you don’t have any yet? Start with a support line or peer group. Talking to a stranger is still talking.

- Write it down. Can’t speak it? Type it. Text it. Journal it.
Sometimes the first person you reach out to… is yourself.

- Use the buddy system. Don’t wait for disaster. Make a pact with someone now:
“When I say ‘code red,’ that means I need you.”

LET GO OF THE LIES:
- “I don’t want to bother anyone.”
Your life matters. The people who care won’t see you as a bother.

- “No one will understand.”
Maybe not everyone. But someone will. And you’ll never know unless you speak.

- “I should be strong enough to handle this alone.”
No one heals alone. Not truly. Not fully. Even warriors need reinforcements.

We don’t survive this life by pretending.
We survive by connecting.

And at NLB, we don’t care how messy it is.
We don’t care how long it’s been.
We care that you’re here, still fighting.

Reaching out isn’t the end of your strength.
It’s the beginning of your comeback.

You don’t have to do this alone anymore.

Chapter 6: 30 Days of Strength – Motivational Quotes

Day 1: You’ve survived 100% of your worst days. Don’t stop now.

Day 2: Strength isn’t loud. Sometimes, it’s just showing up.

Day 3: Healing isn’t pretty—but it’s still progress.

Day 4: The fact that you’re still breathing means the fight isn’t over.

Day 5: Rest is not weakness. It’s repair.

Day 6: Pain is real. So is resilience.

Day 7: You don’t need to explain your scars to anyone.

Day 8: Some days, survival is the victory.

Day 9: One step. One breath. One moment at a time.

Day 10: You are allowed to outgrow the version of you who only knew survival.

Day 11: Even broken wings can learn to fly again.

Day 12: You are more than what happened to you.

Day 13: Be proud of the quiet battles no one sees.

Day 14: You are not a burden—you’re a human being healing.

Day 15: Progress is messy. Keep going anyway.

Day 16: Don’t confuse fatigue with failure.

Day 17: You are proof that survival is strength.

Day 18: The dark doesn’t get to win.

Day 19: You matter. Even on your hardest days.

Day 20: Let go of shame—it was never yours to carry.

Day 21: Keep choosing life. Even when it’s heavy.

Day 22: Courage is showing up afraid and doing it anyway.

Day 23: You are healing. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.

Day 24: Your worth isn’t tied to productivity.

Day 25: You are not alone—not now, not ever.

Day 26: There is no timeline for recovery.

Day 27: You’re allowed to be a work in progress.

Day 28: You are worthy of peace.

Day 29: Hope is built, not found.

Day 30: This is not the end of your story.

— NLB | Nobody Left Behind

Chapter 7: Breathing Through It – Grounding Techniques

When your thoughts start spiraling…
When panic grips your chest like a vice…
When everything feels like too much and too fast—
Come back to your breath.

Grounding isn’t just for meditation.
It’s for the moments when the world is on fire inside your head.
It’s your emergency brake.
Your life raft.
Your way out of the storm.

1. The 5-4-3-2-1 Method
Use your senses to anchor you in the present.

- 5 things you can see
Look around. Say them out loud. Be specific. “A chipped coffee mug. A green pen. A dusty window.”

- 4 things you can touch
Feel the fabric of your shirt. The texture of the floor. Anything solid and real.

- 3 things you can hear
Focus on the hum of the AC. A car outside. Your own breath.

- 2 things you can smell
Even if it's faint—soap, leather, your skin. If you can’t smell anything, find something (coffee, lotion).

- 1 thing you can taste
Even just your tongue against your teeth counts. Or sip some water.

This works because it pulls your brain out of fear and back into the now.

2. Box Breathing (Used by First Responders and Military)
Inhale for 4 seconds → Hold for 4 → Exhale for 4 → Hold for 4
Do this four times. Picture drawing a box with each breath cycle.
It calms the nervous system and resets your focus.

3. The Grounding Touch
Place one hand on your chest. The other on your stomach.
Breathe.
Feel your body rise and fall.
Speak to yourself like someone you love:
“You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re here.”

Even if you don’t believe it yet—say it anyway.

4. Name the Lie, Then Speak the Truth

- “You’ll always feel like this.” ➤ “This is temporary. Feelings aren’t forever.”

- “You’re not safe.” ➤ “Right now, I am safe. I am not in danger.”

- “You’re alone.” ➤ “I am connected. I have a plan. I’m not alone.”

Grounding doesn’t mean the pain goes away instantly.
It means you are reclaiming control.
One breath. One heartbeat. One moment at a time.

You’ve made it this far.
Keep breathing.
We’re breathing with you.

Chapter 8: Micro Wins – How to Survive One Hour at a Time

When the big picture feels too heavy to carry, shrink it.

Forget tomorrow.
Forget next week.
Forget getting through the month.

Just focus on one hour.

That’s it.

Why “Micro Wins” Matter
When your brain is overwhelmed, your body goes into survival mode.
Thinking long-term feels impossible.
So stop trying to win the war today.

Win the next 60 minutes. That’s enough.

Because surviving one hour at a time… eventually adds up to surviving the whole damn day.

Micro Win Examples:
- Get out of bed.
- Brush your teeth.
- Drink a glass of water.
- Text someone “hey.”
- Step outside and breathe for five minutes.
- Write down one thing you’re grateful for—or angry about.
- Cry. Yell. Rest. Move. Just don’t go numb.
- Watch something funny or familiar.

If you did one thing today that kept you alive or grounded—you won.

The Reset Rule
If the last hour was a mess? You get to reset.
Every hour is a new fight.
A fresh round.
A clean slate.

Set a timer if you have to.
At the top of each hour, ask:
“What small thing can I do right now that keeps me in the game?”

This is the heart of survival.
Not the dramatic comeback.
Not the movie-moment breakthrough.

But the quiet choice to keep showing up.
Again.
And again.

You don’t have to conquer the mountain today.

You just have to put one boot in front of the other—
one hour at a time.

— NLB | Nobody Left Behind

Sometimes it hits you out of nowhere.

A smell.
A sound.
A word.
A feeling in your chest that makes no sense… until your body remembers what your mind tries to forget.

That’s what flashbacks do.
They don’t ask for permission.
They ambush you—suddenly you’re there again, even when you know you’re not.

And panic?
It doesn’t always look like screaming.
Sometimes it’s the silence.
The tunnel vision.
The racing heart.
The frozen stare.
The overwhelming need to run.

But hear this clearly:
Flashbacks are not failures. Panic is not weakness. It’s your body doing what it was trained to do—protect you.

When It Hits: What To Do

1. Ground yourself immediately
- Touch something around you: a table, a wall, your clothing.
- Name five things you see, four you feel, three you hear.

2. Focus on your breath
- Inhale through your nose for 4 seconds
- Hold for 4
- Exhale slowly through your mouth for 6
- Repeat. Out-breath longer than in-breath.

3. Say where you are—out loud
“I’m safe. I’m in my house. It’s 2025. This isn’t then. This is now.”

4. Move your body
- Clap your hands
- Stomp your feet
- Get cold water on your face or hands
These re-engage your senses and break the “freeze” cycle.

Remind Yourself What’s Real
Flashbacks feel real because trauma is stored in the body, not just the mind.
You are not crazy.
You are not weak.
You are not broken.

You are a person who went through something that would’ve crushed most.

And you’re still here.

In the Aftermath
After it passes, don’t judge yourself.

Don’t apologize.
Don’t beat yourself up.
Recover. Reground. Reclaim your calm.

You don’t owe anyone a perfect healing story. You owe yourself grace.

What happened to you was real.
But so is your strength.

One breath at a time. One wave at a time. You’re making it.

We all have a voice in our head.
Sometimes it’s ours.
Sometimes it’s someone else’s.
Sometimes it sounds like a drill sergeant.
Sometimes like an abuser.
Sometimes like shame itself.

And too often, that voice says one thing on repeat:
“You’re broken.”

Here’s the truth:
You are not broken. You are carrying pain that wasn’t yours to begin with.

You’ve been through hell.
And instead of collapsing, you adapted.
You protected yourself.
You fought in silence.
You built armor just to survive.

But now it’s time to start healing.
And that means replacing that voice with something truer. 

Something kinder. 

Something real.

Step 1: Name the Lie

When you hear:
- “You’re weak.” ➤ Replace with: “I’m human. And still standing.”

- “You’ll never be normal.” ➤ Replace with: “Normal doesn’t exist. I’m healing in my own way.”

- “Nobody could ever love this version of me.” ➤ Replace with: “The right people will. I’m learning to love myself first.”

Step 2: Rewrite the Script

Keep a running list of phrases that speak truth when your mind turns cruel.
Write them down. Speak them out loud. Tape them to your mirror.

Start with these:
- “I am not a burden.”
- “This pain is not my identity.”
- “I am allowed to take up space.”
- “Healing is possible.”
- “I am not what happened to me.”
- “There’s more to my story than struggle.”

You don’t have to believe these fully yet.
Just repeat them until they feel less foreign.

Because that voice in your head?
It isn’t the only one that gets a say anymore.

Step 3: Practice, Practice, Practice

This is brain re-training.
The old voice got loud because it was practiced.
The new one needs reps too.

Say the kind thing.
Even when it feels fake.
Even when it feels awkward.

That’s not pretending. That’s rebuilding.

And every time you speak truth over yourself, you chip away at the lie that says you’re not worth saving.

But you are.

You always were.

— NLB | Nobody Left Behind

Some people will tell you that setting boundaries makes you selfish.
That saying “no” means you don’t care.
That putting yourself first means you’re not strong enough to carry others.

They’re wrong.

Boundaries aren’t walls to keep people out. 

They’re shields to protect what you’ve fought to rebuild.

You’ve been through enough.

You don’t owe anyone unlimited access to your energy, your story, or your soul.

What Boundaries Do:
- Protect your healing.
You can’t grow if you’re constantly being retraumatized.
- Teach others how to treat you.
Boundaries aren’t just for you—they’re instructions for how you deserve to be loved.
- Restore your power.
Every time you say “not today” or “that’s not okay,” you reclaim your voice.

Common Boundaries Worth Holding:
- “I’m not ready to talk about that.”
- “I can’t attend events that trigger me.”
- “I’m not responsible for fixing everyone.”
- “If you raise your voice, I will leave the conversation.”
- “I need space to process—please respect that.”

You don’t need to apologize for these.
You don’t need a permission slip to protect your peace.

Tips for Setting Boundaries Without Guilt:
1. Use “I” Statements
- “I need space.”
- “I feel overwhelmed when…”
- “I’m not comfortable with…”
2. Practice in low-stakes situations
- Start small. Say no to things that drain you, even if it’s just a group chat.
3. Expect pushback—and hold the line
- If they get angry, that doesn’t mean your boundary is wrong.
It means it’s working.

You’ve already survived so much.
You don’t have to keep surviving people who don’t respect your healing.

Set the boundary.
Hold the line.
Protect the life you’re building.

That’s not selfish. That’s sacred.

You don’t have to win every battle today.
You don’t have to fix everything.
You don’t have to be everything to everyone.

Sometimes healing looks like saying one sacred phrase:
“Not today.”

“Not Today” Is a Form of Resistance
- Not today, guilt.
- Not today, shame.
- Not today, toxic people who think they own your time.
- Not today, pressure to be okay when you’re not.

Saying “not today” isn’t quitting.
It’s choosing your peace over your programming.
It’s knowing what you can handle—and what needs to wait.

When to Say “Not Today”:
- When your body says it needs rest
- When your mind says it needs space
- When someone pushes a boundary you just set
- When trauma comes knocking, and you choose not to answer right now

This Doesn’t Mean Denial—It Means Control
There’s a difference between avoidance and awareness.
You’re not running from the work—you’re pacing the fight.

You know what’s on your plate.
You know what can break you if you push too hard.
So you set it down.

Just for now.
Not forever.
Just today.

Try This Practice
Say this out loud—or write it down each morning:
“Today, I choose to carry only what strengthens me.
The rest can wait.”

This is what strength looks like.
Not bulldozing through every emotion.
But knowing when to pause… and still stand tall.

Some days you’ll say “yes” to the fight.
Other days, you’ll say “not today.”

And both are valid.

Both are brave.

— NLB | Nobody Left Behind