Sad story ahead...get kleenex.
So, when I was in Kindergarten, share day was going to be on Friday, and so I had all week to pick out an amazing item to share at school. After a long and arduous decision, I decided on my brand new, mirrored, glass jewery box. My first nice anything that my Mom entrusted to me, since I was a clumsy little fucker and broke a lot of shit.
I carefully placed it in my backpack and went hopping off to school.
It was finally "share time", so I got my jewelry box and walked over to the "share circle" and sat in my seat.
It was my time to share and I pulled the box out and walked around the circle, basically shaming my peers that they didn't have a nice jewelry box of their own. I might have sneered a few times just to boot.
I then placed the box back under my chair, went to go sit down, and accidentally stomped on my new jewelry box, shattering it into a million pieces. I burst into tears and ran to the bathroom. I don't know what happened much after that, I guess I went into shock from the embarassment?
Now I know what PTSD feels like.