At age 7 or 8 I made some marks on a piece of furniture with some chalk. My father was so angry he told me I was a “fuckup”. Then he said “You know what a fuckup is? A person who fucks up everything he touches!” Of course I was not to know what the word f*** meant for several years yet, but the message was clear: I was worthless and always would be. I don’t think I ever really recovered from that; I didn’t shed a tear when he died.
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Its OK! There are many parents who are worse than that.