I have. A lot. The first time was when I failed at a piano recital. It really hurt to bow and hear the disappointed applause of the audience. I still sweat to remember it. I was about 11 years old. An impressionable age.
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Yes, oddly enough also in a musical setting. I went for an informal audition for an R&B project (not my forte), and I choked, I played maybe 25% of my capacity. I felt like an idiot. I still cringe, but performance anxiety is pretty common.
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I once forgot all of the words to a song I wrote, when I was doing a solo performance and didn’t have a band to back me up or help me out. I had to leave the stage, and I totally threw a rage fit backstage, because I just hated myself so much.
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That had to have been a killer.
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I didn’t perform for two years after that.
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Damn! At least you got it back and went back out! No quitter, you! 
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Oh, I crash and burn often. That’s okay, I learn from it and have more experience and tools moving forward. If you’re not failing, you’re not trying.
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Thanks. That was something I needed to read.
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My pdoc did me a disservice by insisting that failure is painful. I don’t think he understood work and sweat. Oh, well. They say doctors bury their mistakes.
Much of life is painful. Just got to keep buggering on as Churchill said.
Well it didn’t help that my mother was only angry at me. She could never comfort me and assure me of another chance. She made me switch teachers like it was all her fault.
How long has she been dead now? Do you need to keep digging up the corpse and parading it around? Sure not healthy.
I didn’t mention it in the original post. The focus changed from being on me to other reactions. I can’t get mother out of my life - good or bad. There was good to her. She was neat, tidy, and, in her own way, dependable.
I did have a bicycle accident where half my face landed on concrete. There was a 5ft stain on the concrete where I landed and slid. Luckily I was 5 at the time so I had plenty of time to grow it back with no significant scarring! 
I know that wasn’t what you meant but that’s the first thing I thought of.
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Wow, that sounds painful. I’m glad you healed well…
Oh yeah I screw up a lot. I eat my humble pie though.
I think I was in shock. I walked home dragging my bike (I thought a large rock was a ramp…) and knocked on the door (still don’t know why I did that). My father opened the door and said, “Hello AH!”. I said, “I had an accident.” He said, “Yeah, you did!!!” He brought me in, cleaned me up and I was picking rocks out of my skin for about a week after that. I never really felt in pain the entire time… Go fig.
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Kindergarten graduation performance and in secondary 3, when my illness really started to go to psychosis.
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