It felt incredible, purifying. What happened next was unexpected.
Bizarrely, the thing's head bowed as it turned quietly away, disappearing like smoke. I swear I detected a hint of hurt feelings. It was as if my outburst, my sudden change from fear to righteous anger, drained it's power. I wanted to laugh with relief and wonder. My fear gave it life. Without that, it was nothing. I woke up in a twist of sweaty pajamas and the sound of my own yelling still ringing in my ears. That was the last time I had the dream.
The subconscious is a powerful thing. It's very subtle, but since then I have felt less frozen, less guilty. Definitely bolder. Once again, I can't find the right words. I don't know how to describe it. It's as though something in the chambers of my heart that was rusty and stuck was given oil, like the tim man, and finally settled into place.
To anoint with oil is a sacred form of blessing. I now look at that nightmare as a blessing. A gift from God. I will carry it with me always.