I waited to think through and process what happened this week with the the school fashion show before writing this post. This show is a student project at the mega-level. We spent 9 weeks preparing everything needed for the show. My teacher prepared most of the paperwork in advance before she was forced to resign. (I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that decision by the district.) However, there is a bunch of stuff that must be done for all the pieces to come together. The potential for disaster is huge. Over all, the fashion students came through with flying colors. The show was phenomenal. I cheered with everyone else about how the show went. I was so proud of all the students. Their hard work and courage shined on the stage. The stuff I spent weeks trying to get them to do, they pulled it off. Yes, the actually listened to me. Sadly for me, a giant PTSD trigger was bumped and I didn't hang around for the clapping to end. I used the excuse of putting my camera away to leave as quickly as possible. One teacher tried to congratulate me as I flew by. I could barely respond. My breath was coming hard and deep, like a runner finishing a marathon. With the flashing lights, throbbing music, intense focus on shooting pictures, in a way, I did just finish a mental/emotional marathon. I took a few minutes in the classroom to gather my wits about me before tackling the clean up. The night was difficult, I forgot to do several things on my to do list, and multiple triggers were hit. I made it through. Friday morning, I sang all the way to work. (Good thing the windows on my car were rolled up.) I felt like a dump truck load of stress dropped off my shoulders. Now my body extracts pay back. I wrote a short note to my sister. When I reread it later, I wrote complete nonsense. Little clues are telling me I am seriously messed up. I remind myself that recovery takes time. I worked full steam on this show for 4 weeks. I need to let myself breath and rest. I am still so thrilled with how well the class did on this show.