"Sometimes, when we're awake, the monster is still there. Maybe we can't see him as clearly, maybe he's not as obvious as he usually is, but he's there, somewhere, saying:
'you are not good enough. You do not deserve to be loved the way you want to be loved. Something will always be wrong with you, no matter how much you try and fix yourself. You will always be looking for something you cannot find.'

And our gut reaction when we hear the monster say these things, is to run. But if we are the monster, and the person being chased, then we need to stop running because we cannot run away from ourselves.
You need to stop running, turn around and-hug-the monster. Because you are the monster. And the hero-the person running.

And everything between them.

You need to pull the monster close and whisper in it's ear, no matter how scared you are, no matter how ugly the monster seems on the outside, no matter how much you think you can't, and say;

'You are good enough. I'm sorry you're afraid. You deserve to be loved the way you want to be loved. There is nothing in you that needs to be fixed. The thing you've been looking for, has been Here, with you, all along. I'm am sorry I ran away from you. I am sorry you're afraid. I love you, honestly and sincerely, without end."

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How?

Living is way, you just look for the good in the blades of grass between your toes. (Remember what I said: listen for the poem.)

You just try and find something in everything, a myriad of colors exploding outward from the center, and of you open up your heart, it looks like unstirred paint in there, it looks like someone loved you long ago and forgot to stop loving you, even though you expected them to.

It looks like a way to be, when there's no way left to be."

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