Bad dreams can be as frightening as if they were happening in real life. What happens when the bad dream becomes part of your life? Perhaps you haven’t thought of it this way before. When our foundational protector, the one that is supposed to love us and help us fight the bad guys becomes the monster, it can paralyze our resolve to stand-up and set healthy boundaries. 

When I was a little girl, about 3 years old, I had a reoccurring nightmare. We lived in Lumberton, NC in a mobile home park. The park was a perfect location for a tornado looking to prove its power, and there was nothing standing in its way. My Dad worked downtown, and Mom knew that if we could just get to his office, everything would be ok.  He worked in a big, strong building- several stories high- that would protect us from any storm.

“Hurry, hurry get in the car,” she squealed. As she helped my little brother get in the car, I was determined to open that car door on my own. I was Mom’s helper. She had a baby, I was the big girl. I pulled and pulled; finally seeing the crack in the door, the wind picked up and slammed shut. Swirling and whistling in the air, the dirt suddenly felt like sand on my skin stinging and making me wonder if I was going to fly away.  I don’t remember how I got in the car, but suddenly we were on our way to safety. 

Somehow when we got home our trailer park had been spared. God gave us a wink. Weeks following this experience I began to have a recurring nightmare.   

 Two of my favorite shows were Sigmon the Sea Monster and The Adventures of Fat Albert. Two of my heroes had now joined forces.  In my dream, Fat Albert’s head was now the head of Sigmon the Sea Monster.

As I was trying to open the car door, I could feel  Albert-Sigmon pulling on my legs, “Hey Hey Hey, where do you think you’re going.”  “Let me go, let me go Fat Albert. Let me go!”      

“Mommy, mommy Fat Albert is trying to get me. They won’t let me know get into the car.” “Oh baby, you are fine, it’s just a bad dream,” she replied with a little smile.  “Do you want to know how to get rid of monsters?’ “Yes, yes… tell me, tell me.”  I pleaded. “Ok, all you have to do it when they come back, look them in the face and say very calmly, Fat Albert, you cannot hurt me. You have no control over me.” Wiping my face and feeling a sudden since of strength, “Ok mom, I’ll try.” Reluctantly, I fell back a sleep but this time armed with the skills to be able to stand-up to my montser. These kind and comforting characters had suddenly morphed into this mean and threatening monster. How can this happen? This didn’t even make sense to a 3 year old.

As I drifted back to sleep, suddenly in my mind’s eye, I could see my monster. “Hey, Hey, Hey where do you think your going?” “Look Fat Albert, you just need to go away. I have to get in the car, and you are not going to stop me. You have no control over me.”  I stood there facing my monster, waiting for his reply. “Well, OK… just be like that then. You’re no fun.”  With that Fat Alert sauntered away with his head down as if he was defeated. This was the last time scary Fat Albert appeared. I reunited with Sigmon and Sea Monster and Fat Albert every afternoon when watching TV. It was as if they never knew each other.

Little did I know that the tools my mom had given me to fight my monster would later give me the foundation to stand-up to my real life monster.  Ironically that monster would become my mom, and I would have to stand-up to once again to survive her verbal, emotional and physical abuse.

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