Dreaming Isn't Free

I do enjoy dreaming, since I rarely dream and even more rarely remember them. The dreams I recall are generally full of excitement, danger, adventure and rebellions. I rarely repeat a dream, often have dream continuations where I continue a dream from one night to the next, and I can count the number of bad dreams that I have had on one hand.
This may or may not be because I forget my bad dreams fairly quickly, so it is only the really bad dreams that I remember.

Last night I dreamed. It was not pleasant. I came half awake in the middle of a mild panic/anxiety attack, and soothed myself back to sleep and different dreams repeating the words to a hymn in my head. I cannot for the life of me remember what hymn it was.
What kind of dream would cause this reaction in myself? I have no phobias, there is almost nothing that frightens me, and as an extremely resourceful and capable person, there are few situations I could find myself in that I would feel incapable of handling.


Of course I dreamt explicitly about a situation I never had control of. Or rather, a series of situations. I dreamed myself into an odd place. I was both myself in my memories, able to feel all the rage, helplessness and emotions that the memories were evoking, and I was also an onlooker, feeling my own rage, helplessness and impotence to change what was happening. It was horrible.

I was in my childhood home and my mother was raging made at me. She was lunging for me to beat me, pull me around by my hair, and scream expletives at me. I was fleeing for the house; trying desperately to get inside and lock the door. I did not make it. I felt her steps closer behind mine, a rough hand grab my long hair, and my head jerking back. Then the dream would immediately flick back to the beginning the sequence. Sometimes I made it inside and locked the door, only to have her come in another door and grab my clothes, shoulder or hair. Repeat sequence. I flee out the other side of the house and she come around the corner. I am caught. Repeat sequence.

It felt real. It felt awful. I had all the pain and anguish I ever had in those situations and it was humiliating and terrifying. Stress is not good for me.

I wish I could remember what hymn I sang myself back to sleep with.