David Liu
Good Morning, Monster is one of those books that quietly wrecks you and rebuilds you in the span of a few chapters. Catherine Gildiner profiles five patients with such raw, layered trauma that you almost forget you’re reading nonfiction—it feels like sitting in on therapy sessions that somehow reflect pieces of your own emotional architecture. It’s not sensationalized or overly clinical; it’s deeply human. The strength these people show isn’t loud or cinematic—it’s survival in slow motion. For someone like me who values resilience, self-awareness, and the long game, this book hits like a reminder that healing isn’t linear, and strength often looks like just showing up again and again. It’s heavy but worthwhile—quietly powerful in the way a good finance model is: simple, deep, and built to endure.
Good Morning, Monster is one of those books that quietly wrecks you and rebuilds you in the span of a few chapters. Catherine Gildiner profiles five patients with such raw, layered trauma that you almost forget you’re reading nonfiction—it feels like sitting in on therapy sessions that somehow reflect pieces of your own emotional architecture. It’s not sensationalized or overly clinical; it’s deeply human. The strength these people show isn’t loud or cinematic—it’s survival in slow motion. For someone like me who values resilience, self-awareness, and the long game, this book hits like a reminder that healing isn’t linear, and strength often looks like just showing up again and again. It’s heavy but worthwhile—quietly powerful in the way a good finance model is: simple, deep, and built to endure.