I told wyld_dandelyon this in my comment back to her, but now I'll share it with all my LJ friends: Growing up, I would occasionally (never counted the cycle) lie awake and tell myself horrible stories: our house burned down, Mom or Dad disappeared, my brother died, etc. . .and would embellish these miserable fictional events until I had had a thorough cry. The next day I always felt more clear-headed. I don't do this anymore; first of all, I think I have quite enough stress in my life NOW without inventing any, and secondly, I don't sleep alone and our house is not big enough for me to go cry anywhere without disturbing someone. But I think maybe yesterday was my body or my subconscious or whatever, telling me it was time to have that catharsis, and I spent the day telling it "I don't have time for this".
Glee Club rehearsal, right after my despairing post, actually helped. Students worked hard and we got to the point of adding choreography--I learned it from the choreographer along with the students--and dancing helped too. (Also nice to NOT be in charge for a little while--not the teacher, not the parent, just someone learning a new dance step.) Then, when I got home, my two girls entertained me for almost 30 minutes by jumping up and down on the sofa, putting on a "show" for me of whatever songs they could think of next. Of course, Maddie was her usual Ms. Bossypants, determining what song would be next, and easygoing Katie followed her lead enthusiastically. Noisy, silly, fun; I sat in the recliner and laughed and laughed and laughed. Helped a LOT.
So thank you, all my LJ friends who saw yesterday's post and commented, because you helped a lot too. Reminded me that I wasn't alone in feeling like this, that there can be biological causes and natural forces at work outside my conscious control, and that I shouldn't feel guilty about this if/when it happens again: it's not weakness, it's not insanity, but it is real and shouldn't be ignored, either. Thank you so very much. I am grateful to all of you!