Nicole @ All Behind A Smile

I hide behind a smile - only then can I show myself.

[favoritelittlelyrics]

Meg and Dia, “Monster”

[filmsbooksandme]

The Dream Team (1989). Directed by Howard Zieff.

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

Great mental illness movie. 

[unspeakablequotes]

[journalinbloom-blog]

no one looks up anymore cause you might get a raindrop in your eye and heaven forbid they see you cry

[spiritual-happiness]

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

My homework from my therapist this week was to fill this box with index cards, one card per day. On the index cards, I am to write:

1.) Something positive about me

2a + b.) Two things I accomplished during the day - each day, one of those two things must be different than the day before

3.) When a negative thought comes, I write the thought then write the change that makes the thought positive. 

The purpose of this homework is to help me build self esteem. If you want to work on building your self esteem, try this homework with me! Hope it helps someone. 

[recoversuggestions]

you deserve to celebrate your victories, no matter how small they are

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

Agoraphobia – Getting The Mail

Despite the purpose of this blog, I still find it difficult to talk about what I go through with my mental illness – to let readers in. This week my therapist asked me how I could write about…

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

Fandom Restaurant

We need a restaurant that has a decor that is a mix of many different fandoms, including obscure ones, where the staff show up in full cosplay outfits and you never know what they are going to wear. Like, one day your waitress could be Harley Quinn, and the next you could have the same waitress but she would be Hermione Granger. 

[grunge-top]

- only grunge posts -

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

anxiety: beware

me: ?? can u be more specific

anxiety: :)

Why is this so true??

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

Me: *reaches the end of a chapter* Time to stop for now.

Me: *turns page* whoops I guess I have to keep going.

YES! Someone understands! :D

[theboywhoreadsbooks]

There’s a ‘This book really made me feel fuzzy and good at the end’ kind of love for a book.

But then there’s the 'This book ruined me and i’m crying at 2 am, someone help me’ kind of love.

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

The morning after I killed myself.

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up. I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels. The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed. The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine. The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication. The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother. The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach. The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started. By Meggie Royer

[sorry-i-guess-im-ok]

If you’re struggling today:

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

Stay strong, whether you have an illness or not - We’re all in recovery of some sort.

[sorry-i-guess-im-ok]

Coping mechanisms:

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

My favorite coping mechanism .... if only my waist didn’t mind so much!

[nicoleatallbehindasmile]

In Recovery

I love my husband dearly, but I wish he understood that when he walks in and I’m drawing on my arm, I need him. I need him to tell me it’s okay. That we’re not in the past anymore. That recovery is possible. (In his defense, he is very busy with work and classes). 

Some days are triggering, and staying in recovery is hard. 

I drew ‘breathe’ in black (self-harm), the sorta-kinda heart in purple (for bulimia), the semi-colon in yellow (for suicide) and the rewind, pause, play, fast forward in green (for mental illness). (colors from ‘the bracelet project’)