Eating my own arm.
It was pretty horrific, in retrospect–but the dream actually went pretty well. It took place a few weeks before my high school graduation party, and I was terribly nervous. I didn’t care for attention much. So, for whatever reason, the dream was about me, walking around during my graduation party, eating chunks of my arm.
The arm itself was pretty gross. It was missing most of the forearm, and the nub past the elbow was putrid, yellowed, and decaying. It tasted good-ish, but it was super stringy. The best comparison would be roadkill chicken.
Every so often, I would just hold it up and take a great big bite out of it. However, the party went really well despite the arm thing, and I was a super charismatic and well received host. When I woke up, I was both much less nervous and very hungry.