Breadcrumbs:
Famous Self-Injurers
Many famous stars have come out with their stories of self-injury, some have recovered, some have not. Even though they are scrutinized by the media, they have had the courage to reveal their struggles. Below is a brief description of each celebrity, and a bit about their self-injury.
Note: This is NOT meant as an "idolization" of these celebrities. I neither condemn nor condone their actions.
Fiona Apple
Fiona Apple, famous singer/songwriter, was raped outside of her mother's apartment at the age of twelve. For years after her rape she would check her closets to make sure no one was hiding in the house and would be nervous around older men. And she still continues to have bad, violent dreams. During her teens and the months she spent making her album, Tidal, she suffered with an eating disorder. Frustrated at the misunderstanding by the media of her eating disorder she attempted to explain it in a 1998 Rolling Stone interview, "I definitely had an eating disorder. What was really frustrating for me was that everyone though I was anorexic, and I wasn't. I was really depressed and self-loathing. For me, it wasn't about being thin, it was about getting rid of the bait attached to my body. A lot of it came from the self-loathing that came from being raped at the point of developing my voluptuousness. I just thought that if you had a body and if you had anything on you that would be grabbed, it would be grabbed. So I did purposely get rid of it." As a result of her eating disorder Fiona became extremely thin but the media wrote off her thinness as an attempt to "fit in." After her "Criminal" video from her album, "Tidal," came out she began gaining weight on purpose. She wanted to show the world that she didn't care about being thin. In 1998 she said, "I mean, my plan is to gain enough weight that I can really be considered voluptuous, and do my 'First Taste' video. And I am preparing myself for what is going to happen. Because soon they will be saying that I'm fat. And it will hurt me."
When Fiona read her first bad review for Tidal she began scratching her left wrist with the fingernails of her right hand. She scratched all the way up her arm, there are still some dark patches on her wrists, where she dug the deepest. Fiona said, "I have a little bit of a problem with that. It's a common thing." When asked if it made her feel better she simply replied, "It just makes you feel." Fiona also sometimes bites her lips as hard as she can, sometimes until they bleed. "And it'll be bleeding, and I can't stop, because it almost feels so good when I bite my lip." Trying to explain her actions she said, "It was never, like, 'I am going to hurt myself and put myself in the hospital.' ...It is that I am going to give myself the pain that I need to feel to put the punctuation on this shit that's going inside."
Fiona would get frustrated and sad when she feel that people think she's "crazy." She says, "The most annoying thing for me to hear about myself is that I'm trying to make people have a pity party for me. Everything that I've gone through has been dramatized by the people who've written about it, not by me. I'm just saying, 'This happened to me, this happened to a lot of people.' Why should I hide shit? Why does that give people a bad opinion of me? It's a reality. A lot of people do it. Courtney Love pulled me aside at a party and showed me her marks."
Fiona Apple has become a happier and more confident individual since she talked so frankly about her past self-injury and eating disorder to Rolling Stone. Articles in several magazines and newspapers, including The Washington Post and USA Today, mention different new aspects of Fiona, such as her new take on life, a healthy weight gain and a new-found confidence in herself and her music. In a USA Today interview she said still gets upset when she reads a particularly bad article about herself or review of her music but does not mention any further self-injurious behavior as a result.
Emilie Autumn

The violinist best known for her Opheliac album and her autobiographical novel, "The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls," which is a detailed account of bipolar disorder and the modern day psych ward in which she stayed after a suicide attempt. She compares and contrasts the modern day ward with the Victorian insane asylums. The chapters of the diary are culled directly from her own diary. One chapter of the novel is called "Cutting Diary" and contains several pictures of self-injury and an account of dealing with self-injury that alternates between handwriting and type. The words written underneath the chapter title are "Why am I not ashamed?"
"Taking my first good, hard look around the place I have just learned might be my home for quite some time, my eyes are instantly drawn to a long, thin string haning from the wall beside my bed. Above this string is a sign reading "PULL ROPE TO CALL NURSE." My obvious thought is that the string could easily be used as a weapon of self-destruction, and, if I can't have a pencil, then what the fuck? Imagining for a moment that it could hold my weight, I envision myself knotting the string into a noose and pulling it down around my neck. Then, when the nurse is called as a result of my "pulling the rope," she will enter the room to find my body dangling ironically from the string. That, in a place like this, is pure comedy gold".
One complete page of the "Cutting Diaries" says "pain, pain, pain, pain" in type over and over again with the words "If you're depressed, death is an upgrade" handwritten at the top.
On Emilie's Opheliac album the song Liar contains references to self-injury:
I'm hurting you for your own good
I'd die for you, you know I would
I'd give up all my wealth to buy you back the toy you never sold
I want to mix our blood and put it in the ground
So you can never leave
I want to win your trust, your faith, your heart
You'll never be decievedLiar, liar, liar, liar
Liar, liar, liar, liar
Liar, liar, liar, liar
Liar, liar, liar, liar
Liar, LiarI want you to heal you pretty sweet
Emilie, even if not ashamed of her past with self-injury, does not advocate it. Her novel comes complete with a trigger warning saying, "This story is not meant to educate and entertain. The author does not advocate suicide or self-harm of any kind in any way whatsoever. If you are suffering from a mental illness and require counseling, please contact a certified professional. If you feel that you are in immediate danger, please call your local emergency hotline."
Drew Barrymore
Drew Barrymore has been removed from this page because only one brief sentence in a single article claimed that she self-injures. Further searches for more evidence of this have been inconclusive.
Russell Brand

The English comedican and actor opened up about self-injury in his memoir, "My Booky Wook: A Memoir of Sex, Drugs, and Stand-Up." He revealed that he had self-injured as a teen, saying, "I get fixated when I’m bleeding – I can see why they went in for blood-letting in the medieval times because it makes you feel a bit better. When I cut myself, the drama of it calms me down."
In 1995 when he was at the Drama Centre London he was expelled in his last term of his final year for smashing a glass over his head and lacerating his chest and arms with it after his performace was criticized.
In a "Time Out Chicago" interview after being asked if he's ever been diagnosed with a mental illness Russell said, "Yes, depression and manic depression and, more latterly, bipolar. Attention-deficit disorder, hyperactivity. It’s difficult to know which of those diagnoses are correct because most of the time I was very young and on drugs."
Russell is a former heroin and sex addict and a recovering alcoholic. He also struggled with bulimia as a teen. He's shown an interest in the Hare Krishna movement and chanting the Hare Krishna mantra is part of his recovery from drug addiction.
Brody Dalle
Australian Brody Dalle, frontwoman of the Southern Californian punk-pop band The Distillers, was born in Fitzroy, Melbourne Australia on January 1, 1979. She is a woman both loathed and loved by those on the punk scene and is known for her powerful voice that has been likened to screaming.
As a teenager Brody used to write poetry about darker subjects, including rape and rage. Her biological father was kicked out of the home for physical abuse when she was a young girl and the man who her mother married helped aid in her feeling like an outsider in her own home. Frequent fights with her mother increased the feelings of alienation. She also felt like an outside at school. At age 15 her mother sent her to an all-girls Catholic school to try to get her to conform, basically to tame her, but it did not work well. 'For some reason my mom decided to send me there 'cause I was a young, wild, promiscuous teenager. [It was] pretty horrifying for me. I'm pro-choice and I was in Catholic schools where I couldn't debate about that. It wasn't acceptable 'cause we were 'children of God.' It was bullshit." Brody said in a SF Weekly article, "Around 13, I started getting really angry and hating my mom--I mean, really hating my mom. She hated me too. We ended up strangling each other in the kitchen. I was always an angry kid, so I started running away and doing [angry] teenage girl stuff--cutting myself, getting high, not going to school."
In the mid-'90s Brody started with a band, Sourpuss. She met her ex-husband, Tim Armstrong, during a gig at Australia's Somersault Festival. In 1997 she moved to Los Angeles with her husband and started The Distillers. They released their self-titled debut album. When their next album Sing Sing Death House was released Brody had found her voice and the music itself was raw and powerful. Social issues of all kinds were covered in the songs, including some of the personal issues she has dealt with in the past.
Brody talks about her childhood best friend in one of her songs. In LA Weekly she says, 'Gerti wasn't anorexic or bulimic, and she wasn't addicted to drugs, but she cut. Yeah, she cut herself. I've known girls who are anorexic, too. Someone real close to me now is anorexic, and it's just thrown her family into hell. It's so scary, so sad that some women feel that they have to starve themselves, and this woman I know, she knows she has a problem and she just can't stop. I see these girls, they're 14 years old, taller than me and weigh half what I weigh."
Brody tries to reach out to kids who are going through rough times, kids in need. While she has some themes of self-destruction in her music she no longer cuts herself.
"If I cut, I won't look like that
If I cut, If I cut,
I won't feel like this shit"
"Sick of It All," The Distillers
Johnny Depp
Johnny Depp, an actor well known for his portrayal of eccentric characters in such movies as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Pirates of the Caribbean, was born in Owensboro, Kentucky in 1963. When he was young he was also know for his "bad boy" behavior. In a 1999 Avantgarde interview Johnny said, "As a teenager I was so insecure. I was the type of guy that never fitted in because he never dared to choose. I was convinced I had absolutely no talent at all. For nothing. And that thought took away all my ambition too." Even today he still has feelings of insecurity about himself. In 1999 he said, "My self-image it still isn't that alright. No matter how famous I am, no matter how many people go to see my movies, I still have the idea that I'm that pale no-hoper that I used to be. A pale no-hoper that happens to be a little lucky now. Tomorrow it'll be all over, then I'll have to go back to selling pens again." During his teens he had drinking, smoking and doing drugs. There were episodes of petty theft and vandalism. He dropped out of high school at the age of sixteen so that he could concentrate on being a musician. He continued to have problems with drugs and drinking into his twenties.
Johnny has a series of seven or eight scars on his left forearm where he has cut himself with a knife on different occasions to commemorate various moments or rights of passage in his life. In a Talk magazine interview he said, "It was really just whatever [times when he hurt himself]--good times, bad times, it didn't matter. There was no ceremony. It wasn't like 'Okay, this just happened, I have to go hack a piece of my flesh off.'" In a 1993 Details magazine interview Johnny explained his self-injury, "My body is a journal in a way. It's like what sailors used to do, where every tattoo meant something, a specific time in your life when you make a mark on yourself, whether you do it yourself with a knife or with a professional tattoo artist." Johnny has several tattoos, such as the one that says 'Wino Forever' (used to be 'Winona Forever" when he was dating the famous actress, Winona Ryder).
Johnny Depp now lives in France with his steady girlfriend (whom he considers his wife), Vanessa Paradis, and his daughter and son. He has quit doing drugs and no longer drinks heavily. In a 2001 Movie Star Magazine interview he talked about how he is currently the happiest he has ever been, "My upbringing made me as I am now. But I can become merry and happy at once. There were many years I was feeling at a loss about my life or how I grew up. I couldn't understand what is right or what is precious. At that time, I was so miserable and self-defeating. I was feeling angry with various things. My anger came up to the surface then. I don't say such tendency has disappeared. Even now there are anger and the dark side in myself. But it's the first time I've been so close to the light."
Richey Edwards
Richey James Edwards, a musician who was the celebrity most up front with his self-injurious behavior, was born on December 22, 1967. He grew up under his grandmother's care in Blackwood until he was thirteen because his parents could not afford to take care of him. He joined the band, "The Manic Street Preachers," after they had funded their first single, "Suicide Alley."
While in the band Richey suffered from deepening alcoholism and anorexia, he also went through long bouts of depression and insomnia, and self-injury. He had suffered from self-injury since he was a teenager. On May 15, 1991 Richey carved "4 Real" on his forearm with a razor blade. The wound required seventeen stitches, and was done while Richey was involved in a discussion with an NME Live Reviews Editor at the Time. The next day he called and apologized and explained his behavior, "I tried talking to Steve for an hour to explain ourselves [The Manic Street Preachers]...I didn't abuse him or insult him. I just cut myself. To show that we are no gimmick, that we are pissed off. That we are for real." By the end of 1993 he had started stubbing cigarettes out on his arm and was drinking heavily. Also, at an April 1994 concert in Bangkok, Thailand, he appeared with his chest slashed open by knives a fan had sent him. In July of 1994, after having been missing for forty-eight hours and drinking and self-injuring during this time, Richey entered a rehabilitation clinic and stayed ten weeks.
On February 1, 1995 leaves the Embassy Hotel he was staying at, stopped at his Cardiff apartment, and disappeared, leaving behind his passport and credit cards. He was reported missing and his abandoned car was found on the Severn Bridge, a place notorious for suicides. Police presumed he was dead by the time summer came around. People still wonder if Richey is still alive and occasionally there are "sightings" of him.
"When I cut myself I feel so much better. All the little things that might have been annoying me suddenly seem so trivial because I'm concentrating on the pain. I'm not a person who can scream and shout so this is my only outlet. It's all done very logically."
(Siamese Animal Men - NME)
"It's about people who take their frustration out on everyone around them. I never raise my voice. Cutting myself or hurting myself is the way I deal with anger."
('Manic Frustration' - Kerrang!)
"I think it's quite common. It's on the increase. It's all about self-discipline. Like, self-obsession is connected completely with self-loathing, and it's the same with, um, if you've got a weight problem. It's all about... finding some worth in yourself, knowing that you've got the discipline to do it, and knowing that other people maybe can't do it. And it's also, I think, really connected to the fact that you almost feel, like, silent, you have no voice, you're mute, there's just no, you've got no option' Even if you could express yourself nobody would listen anyway' Things that go on inside you, there's no other way to get rid of them.
I mean, I've been in clinics where there's been lots of people who've cut themselves and abused themselves, physically and violently. It's pretty common, it's clichéd amongst people who do it that when they do it they don't actually feel any pain. You know, even when you're maybe having stitches in your body and things have been done to you, it doesn't matter. You're in a frame of mind where it really does not hurt.
You know, maybe a few days later you get a certain amount of pain as the skin starts to heal, but when you're in that frame of mind it's really natural. It's the only logical thing to do. Otherwise you feel you could almost do something to another person, and that is something that I would - again, like I said, I would never ever take it out on somebody else. Maybe the things I do, it's more concerned with the fact that I don't like myself very much, and so I would not expect anyone else to judge me that highly; so if I discipline myself I can feel relatively content with my mental state and my physical state. If I can balance those two then I feel OK, and I'm not really worried what people think about me. Because I judge myself harsher, and on more strict terms, than they ever could probably. I - I think. Mm." (Villa 65 - Dutch Radio)
"Self abuse is anti-social, aggression still natural."
(Melody Maker)
"I eat and I dress and I wash and I still can say thank you
Puking - shaking - sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out"
(Manic Street Preachers, 'Yes')
"Roses in the hospital
Stub cigarettes out on my arm
Roses in the hospital
Want to feel something of value
Roses in the hospital
Nothing really makes me happy
Roses in the hospital
Heroin is just too trendy
Roses in the hospital
Try to pull my finger nails out
Roses in the hospital
I want to cling to something soft
Roses in the hospital
Progressing like a constant war
Roses in the hospital
There's no one to feel ashamed for
)Manic Street Preachers, 'Roses in the Hospital')
"It's about people who hurt themselves in order to concentrate, or just to feel something."
(explanation of the song, 'Roses In The Hospital')
"Scratch my leg with a rusty nail, sadly it heals."
(Manic Street Preachers, 'Die in the Summertime')
"Get some pain and I feel alive - born to end
Close my eyes overdose on hell - born to end
Get run over by no direction - born to end
Breathing dead and I'm born to end - born to end
(Manic Street Preachers, 'Born To End')
Colin Farrell
Colin was born on May 31, 1976 in Castleknock, Dublin, Ireland. This famous actor has starred in a number of films and has gained quite a fan following. He has been named a bad boy in Hollywood because of his flippant attitude towards drink, drugs and sex.
Colin said to GQ of school, "I was terrible in school. I really didn't listen a day. I was just so uninterested. I had no grand master plan. I just never studied and didn't do homework, cheated in exams every chance I got. I just didn't give a fuck." He was the youngest of four children and had it easier than his older siblings. He took great advantage of this. Colin said that was the reason he "ended up fucking earlier, and drinking earlier, and doing drugs earlier." At age thirteen he had already been drinking and he has described two drinking episodes that resulted in vomiting and "the spins." He smoked his first spliff when he was fifteen and first took Ecstasy when he was sixteen. That was the start in experimenting with other drugs. He would lock the door of his bedroom and he would do speed, coke, ecstasy, or whatever other drug he had.
At sixteen, because over twenty boys at school looking to hurt him his parents moved him to Gormanston boarding school. Colin, who often fought in school, did not adhere to the school's strict discipline. He often skipped classes and would spend lunch drinking at a local pool hall. At seventeen he was expelled because he threw a supervisor against a wall and threatened him because the supervisor grabbed him.
As a teenager Colin tried to get into the entertainment world. He signed up for a local modeling agency and got small bits on television. One part was modeling a G-string on Irish television. He volunteered because, "That was a pill, you know. Two pills if you're buying off the right person..." Colin and a friend later tried to get to America but were unable to so they opted for Australia. He got his first role in a play but returned to Ireland only ten months into his stay. After his return from Australia he was drifting and was completely depressed. Later on he would feel that this difficulty was self-created. He stopped talking to siblings and eventually had a sort of breakdown in front of his mother. A doctor told him he had to stop the drugs so he stopped both the drugs and drinking at that time. The doctor put him on Librium and some Antabuse pills that would make him sick if he drank. He stopped drinking for eleven months.
In GQ Colin said of himself, "I'm a hair puller-outer." When he was thirteen or fourteen he tugged out the whole part of hair near his forehead, strand by strand. "What do you call it? Trichomania or something. There is some generic psychological term for it. I loved the sensation." He liked the little jabs of pain of the hair as it was pulled out. "Yeah, the little sensation. Just, yeah... right before it's left the follicle, right - that moment, right before it's left. And then the... duuukkkk. I just fucking love it."
Jessicka Addams (formerly Jessicka Fodera)
Jessicka Addams, a singer most known for her bands Jack off Jill and Scarling, was born on October 23, 1975. She grew up in Florida as an only child. As a three-year-old she was enrolled in a local Montessori school, there she did well in art and music. Fodera's mother later enrolled her in Horizon Elementary School's gifted program, where she excelled in theater, art, and creative writing. Fodera found the school's chorus group in middle school and found that she was as a good singer. She quickly became bored with the choir's stifling standards and, by the time she entered high school, Fodera was "immersed in music, Goth culture, gay iconography, and feminist literature". She would write the word "cunt" on her knuckles. When she was seventeen she decided to start her own band.
Fodera's first few attempts at a band were a failure but by 1991 she had joined the first incarnation of Jack Off Jill. In 1992 the band began opening for Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids. Jack Off Jill, made up of four women, became one of the most controversial underground bands during their time. Fodera would perform shocking on-stage antics, such as covering the audience with spit and blood and candy covered razors. In 1993 Marilyn Manson and Fodera were charged with misdemeanors after a concert in Jacksonville, Florida. Fodera began cutting herself on stage, which earned her the tile of "Patron saint of self injury".
In 1997 Jack off Jill signed with Risk Records and created the full-length Sexless Demons and Scars to the mainstream public. While Jack Off Jill met with growing success Fodera began to question her commitment to the band. She and band mate, Robin Moulder, were disagreeing on where to take the band and her mentor, Marilyn Manson, were no longer speaking. She later made up with Manson and became part of the Marilyn Manson / Monster Magnet / Hole tour after Hole left the tour prematurely. Jack Off Jill released their second full-length album, Clear Hearts Grey Flowers in 1999. In 2000 Jack Off Jill officially disbanded.
In 2002 Scarling was formed and in April, 2004 Scarling released their debut album, Sweet Heart Dealer. Their second album, So Long, Scarecrow, was released on August 23, 2005. Jessika still continues to play and tour with Scarling.
On her website Fodera says of her self-injury when asked "Why do you cut yourself so much?": "The question might be why did I cut myself so much? I initially started cutting myself at an early age out of frustration. Cutting tends to relieve anger. Many self-injurers like myself have enormous amounts of rage within and are sometimes afraid to express it outwardly, we injure ourselves as a way of venting these feelings without hurting others. When intense feelings built, I became overwhelmed and unable to deal with it. By causing pain, I could reduce the level of emotional stress to a bearable one. As a teenager it was an escape from the numbness many of those who self-injure say they do it in order to feel something, to know that they're still alive. You obtain a certain feeling of euphoria. Continuing abusive patterns later in life became more force of habit an adrenal rush on stage rather then a cry for help."
Megan Fox

Best known for her roles in Jennifer's Body and Transformers, the movie star revealed in a Rolling Stone interview in 2009 that she used to cut herself but she downplayed is as a "phase". In the interview she said, “Yeah,[...] but I don’t want to elaborate. I would never call myself a cutter. Girls go through different phases when they’re growing up, when they’re miserable and do different things, whether it’s an eating disorder or they dabble in cutting.” When asked if she'd ever had an eating disorder her non-answer was, "If I did talk about it, I’d be taking on a role-model status, and I’d have to choose my words very carefully, and I’d have to make sure I reveal it in a specific way, and I don’t want to do it."
In the same interview she talked about her low self-esteem, saying, "I’m really insecure about everything [...] I never think I’m worthy of anything… I have a sick feeling of being mocked all the time. I have a lot of self-loathing. [...] Self-loathing doesn’t keep me from being happy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t struggle. I am very vulnerable. But I can be aggressive, hurtful, domineering and selfish, too. I’m emotionally unpredictable and all over the place. I’m a control freak.”
Darrell Hammond

The SNL star best known for spoofing celebrities like Bill Clinton, Al Gore, and Sean Connery revealed on CNN -- 'SNL's' Darrell Hammond reveals dark past of abuse -- that he was brutally abused by his mother through stabbings, beatings, and electric shocks throughtout his childhood. This led to severe mental health issues, including self-injury. He revealed in the interview that he began to self-injure at the age of nineteen. The diagnoses thrown at him varied and included schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. He was put on sometimes up to seven medications at once which he says were "soul-killing" but also says that they gave him stability. Darrell says that he was medicated while performing on SNL and that acts of cutting took place backstage, also that one time he was led away in a straitjacket. With the publication of his book "God If You're Not Up There, I'm Fucked" Darrell has made his mental health troubles public and says that he's not hiding anymore. "I don't feel ashamed of falling down, because I got hit by a Mack truck," he said in the interview. "The fact is, I kept trying to get back up, and then I did."
Kelly Holmes
Kelly Holmes, an English athlete most known for her winning gold medals in the 800 meters and 1500 meters in the 2004 Summer Olympics, was born on April 19, 1970. Holmes attended Hugh Christie Comprehensive School in Tonbridge at the age of twelve. She started training for athletics and joined the Tonbridge Athletics Club. There she was coached by David Arnold and later won the English schools 1500 meter title at the junior and senior levels. Her hero at this time was British middle distance runner, Sebastian Coe. At age 18 Holmes joined the British Army as a lorry driver in the Women's Royal Army Corps. She was later transferred in 1992 to the Adjutant General's Corps as a physical trainer after the corps disbanded. During this time she also became British Army judo champion and in army athletic events once competed in the men's 800 meters because it was thought that to run in the women's event would be too embarrassing for other competitors. She competed in other events and won.
Holmes decided to become an athlete again after watching Lisa York complete in the 1992 Summer Olympics on television. She had competed against York previously and had won. For some time she kept her job in the army and also engaged in athletics until 1997 when increased funding allowed her to become a full time athlete.
Holmes won the English national 800 meters in 1993 and the 1500 meters in 1994. She won the gold in the 1500 meters at the 1994 Commonwealth Games. She also broke United Kingdom's 800 meter and 1000 meter record. Holmes did suffer several injuries through the course of her athletic career, which caused her to lose. At the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester she won the 1500 meter gold and at the European Championships in Munich, Holmes won the bronze medal in the 800 meters.
In 2004 Holmes won in the 800 meter and 1500 meter Summer Olympics in Athens. She had arrived there without any of the injuries that had plagued her in earlier years and she became the seventh British woman to win an athletics gold and the first British woman to win two olympic gold medals. Holmes was made a Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire in the New Year's Honours List of 2004. The Queen presented her with the honor at Buckingham Palace on March 9, 2005. Holmes competed in her final race in the United Kingdom on August 21, 2005 and on December 6, 2005 Holmes announced her retirement from athletics, stating, "I actually knew in my heart and mind that it was the right choice and now I feel I can relax and be myself."
Holmes trained in 2003 for the 2004 Summer Olympics at a French training camp and suffered several leg injuries. She became depressed and began to cut herself with a pair of scissors. In a News of the World newspaper interview she stated, "I made one cut for every day that I had been injured." During this time period she had also considered suicide at least once and later sought help from a doctor, who diagnosed her with clinical depression. Anti-depressants would affect her performance so she used herbal serotonin tablets.
While training in 2003 for the 2004 Summer Olympics at a French training camp, Holmes suffered a number of leg injuries. Falling deep into depression, she began cutting her wrists and chest over a two-month period. "I made one cut for every day that I had been injured", Holmes stated in an interview with News of the World newspaper. At least once she considered suicide, stating in the same interview, "I even thought briefly, just for a moment, about pressing the scissors harder in my wrists." About her depression she said, "I thought I was cursed. It's the lowest I've ever, ever been." To draw away attention from the scars caused by her self-injury she would claim she had hurt herself while training.
In the British Sunday newspaper she told of her first self-injurious experience, "I'd locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the taps so nobody could hear me crying. That's when I saw a pair of scissors. I picked them up, opened them and started to cut my left arm. I made one cut for every day I'd been injured. With each one I felt I was punishing myself but at the same time I felt a sense of release that drove me to do it again and again. I knew deep inside that I wouldn't go any further. The whole episode was nothing more than a cry of despair."
In the same 2005 British Sunday newspaper interview she says, "Now I don't think I'll ever get to that stage again because I've achieved what I've always wanted. I strove to be the best and not give up on it."
Angelina Jolie
Angelina Jolie, an actress who has won an Academy Award and starred in films such as "Girl Interrupted", "Tomb Raider," and "Mr. & Mrs. Smith" was born in 1975 to famous parents, both actors. She grew up in Los Angeles and studied at the Lee Strsberg Institute. She appeared in five student films for her filmmaker brother, James Haven Voight, as well as in music videos for the Rolling Stones, Meat Loaf, the Lemonheads, and Lenny Kravitz. Angelina had a short modeling career with Finesse Modeling Agency, in which she appeared in numerous fashion layouts. In 1996, at the age of twenty, she got married to Jonny Lee Miller, a British actor, while wearing a white shirt with her fiance's name written on it in her blood. The two got divorced two years later. In May 2000 she got married to Billy Bob Thornton.
In June 2001 Rolling Stone she said that during her very early teens she started "thinking about not wanting to be around. It was when the reality of life set in, the reality of surviving." Also, Angelina used to hurt herself during her early teens but stopped around the age of sixteen. She explained in a 2000 Maxim article, "You're young, you're crazy, you're in bed and you've got knives. So shit happens." But in 1999 Access Hollywood interview she explained it more in-depth, "I was..trying to feel something....I was looking at different things..thinking romantically about...about blood. I really hurt myself," and, "I was nearly in the hospital. I nearly cut my jugular vein." She also said in the same interview, "I was just....a kid. I was like 13, And, I was saying that it is not something that is cool. Its not cool. And I understand that it is a cry for help..."
In a 2000 Jane interview she said, "This person asked me about cutting myself when they saw a scar. I'm very open, but because of that, people think that they know everything about me, and, actually, they don't know anything. I say things that other people might go through. That's what artists should do - throw things out there and not be perfect and not have answers for anything and see if people understand. But this person made the cutting sound interesting, like it was something I do now. [For the record, she did, but doesn't now, and doesn't endorse it.] And then I met somebody who said they'd seen movies of mine and then showed me where they had cut themselves. I had to explain, first off, not to do that. But it made me really fucking angry at the people who represent me in a way that would get that person to do that and show me. I don't understand why people would want to use something so damaging. It's like, let's make me look 'cool' and worry a lot of people in my family." Angelina has the Japanese symbol for "death" tattooed on her shoulder, and the Latin words, 'Quod me nutrit me destruit,' on her stomach, meaning "What nourishes me also destroys me."
Angelina Jolie no longer hurts herself as a way of coping but she freely admits to using knives during sex play. Article and interviews indicate that she is a much happier and more content individual than she was earlier in her life.
Alfred Kinsey
Alfred Charles Kinsey, most known for being the author of the first mass scientific survey of human sexual behavior in the United States, was born on June 23, 1894. He was the son of Alfred S. Kinsey, an engineering instructor at Stevens Institute of Technology. Kinsey - the son - went to Bowdoin College and graduated as a Bachelor of Science in 1916. Kinsey was an instructor in biology and zoology at Harvard, while working to get the Doctor of Science degree there. Beginning in 1920 became a specialist in plant and insect life and worked as an assistant professor in Indiana, later becoming a full professor of zoology in 1929. In 1942 he set up the Institute for Sex Research, Inc. with the help of Rockefeller Foundation funds. He began his famous statistical study of human sexual behavior in men and women in the United States.
Kinsey's first book, "Sexual Behavior in the Human Male", was published in 1948 to a mass of publicity. The book was 800 pages and sold about 500,000 copies at the price of $6.50. Discussion of the book and some of its shocking findings went on for several years in the media and books discussing Kinsey's book were written. Kinsey put all the royalties from the book back into his research. In 1953 the sequel, "Sexual Behavior in the Human Female", was published.
Kinsey and his scientific conclusions on sexuality were both attacked and defended. Some of these attackers included famous psychologists of the time, including Dr. Karl A. Menninger. Others were civics groups like the National Council of Women, and a committee of the House of Representatives. Kinsey claimed that religious groups pressured his sponsors to withdraw their support from his Institute for Sex Research. Two years before his death the Rockefeller Foundation, one of his major supporters, withdrew its aid and his institute was destined to close.
Kinsey was a sadomasochist and many people throw the word homosexual around when it comes to him, though not relevent when it comes to his deviancy from "normal" sexual practices. It's been said that he pushed his wife and fellow researchers a the Kinsey Institute into different types of sexual deviancy, which he filmed. He would compulsively try every type of sexual deviancy which he found.
It was not revealed until later that he had engaged in compulsive genital self-injury, including self-circumcision. In the 2005 movie Kinsey Kinsey self-injures in the bathroom after a loss of research funding. His fellow researchers and his biographers say that he had been self-injuring for years because of his sexual deviancy that had led him into all sorts of bizarre sex practices.
Demi Lovato
While I normally don't add people who haven't outed themselves Demi Lovato's video message to her fans in early March 2010 after all the rumors and close sources seems to pretty much be doing everything but saying the specific words, 'self-injury' and 'eating disorder', especially after all the media talking about her having issues with self-injury and an eating disorder after she went inpatient.
Demi Lovato, best known for being a Disney star and part of the Camp Rock films, began her acting career at age seven. Besides being an actress she has a successful singing career. In an interview with Ellen Degeneres Demi talked about her experiences with bullying in the 7th grade after becoming a target of a "hate petition." Demi says of this time, "I went through a really hard time at school with girls bullying me. I blamed it on myself at the time, but looking back I guess it was out of jealousy." The bullying seems to have been the catalyst leading to her problems with self-injury and an eating disorder. It got to the point that she, in frustration, asked her mother to have her home-schooled and, by the next week, they were out buying home-schooling materials.
Demi has been outspoken against bullying and created a famous Youtube video, Standing Up Against Bullying.
In People in September 2010 she shared about her issues with body image. She told People that she has a tattoo that says, "You make me beautiful." She also shared that she has "fat days" and wants to feel more comfortable and confident.
On November 1, 2010, Demi entered inpatient treatment for what was said to be an eating disorder and self-injury, according to People. In late January, 2011 she left treatment and made herself pretty scarce to her fans.
In March 7, 2011 Demi created a video thanking her fans for their support. In the video she said, "Hey guys, it's me, Demi. I wanted to send you guys a message 'cause I know that you've seen me out and about and I wanted to let you know that I am back and home. Welcome to my home. But I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for the support that you've given me along the way." About the support the received and her personal experienced she also said, "I read [all your support] and your support is what got me through this. So I couldn't be more thankful for everything you guys sent me. The journey that I've been on has been very, very difficult over the past few months. I was dealing with issues that I know not only girls just my age but girls of all ages are dealing with. I hope to one day raise awareness of everything, so that I can help people too, just like you guys helped me through this rough time.
I can't tell you how much light you brought into my life in probably the darkest time of my life," she continued. "Without you guys I wouldn't be here today."
Until then it was mostly paparazzi-taken pictures of self-injury scars/wounds and "close sources," not Demi herself. Now she's putting her life back together and getting back to work.
On April 19, 2011 Demi opened up in an ABC News interview. She revealed that she had had an unhealthy relationship with food since she was young, beginning with compulsive overeating at eight years old. The bullying during her early teens turned the overeating into bulimia, which alternated with severe restricting. "I developed an eating disorder, and that's kind of what I've been dealing with ever since," she said. Her family was aware of her issues with the eating disorder from early on but unaware that she had, at age eleven, begun cutting her wrists as a way to cope with her feelings.
"It was a way of expressing my own shame, of myself, on my own body," she told ABC News. "I was matching the inside to the outside. And there were some times where my emotions were just so built up, I didn't know what to do. The only way that I could get instant gratification was through an immediate release on myself."
Demi self-injured throughout her teens but it didn't come to a head until the summer of 2011 when she was doing the concert tour with the Jonas Brothers for "Camp Rock 2". She lost control and hit one of the backup dancers. Demi says she had been losing her voice because of purging, had been performing concerts on an empty stomach, was self-medicating, and not taking her medication. Her family and management team held an intervention and she quit the tour and went to a treatment center for women with eating disorders and addiction issues.
Demi says treatment changed her life and that she relearned how to feel and picked up new, positive ways of coping. "The real reason why I'm sitting down with you," she said in the interview, "is to open up the eyes of so many young girls, that it doesn't have to be this way."
Courtney Love
Courtney Love, outspoken and often times controversial singer and actress, was born in San Francisco in 1965. Her parents, who have been living a hippie lifestyle, bitterly divorced when Courtney was only five. As a child she was diagnosed as being autistic and went to therapy for several years. She went wild during her teenage years and was expelled from school at the age of fourteen for drinking alcohol, had many conflicts with teachers and had several minor shoplifting offenses. At the age of sixteen she dropped out of high school. Courtney formed her band, Hole, in 1989 with her friend, Eric Erlandsen. She married Kurt Cobain, the lead singer for Nirvana, in early 1992. Kurt killed himself in 1994. There was some controversy because there are rumors that Courtney killed him, she has denied it.
Courtney went through a period of self-injury; she would cut herself on stage." While talking about Kurt's overdoses in a 1995 SPIN interview she said, "Some people OD. I've never ODed, ever. I've gotten really fucking blasto, but instead of ODing, I chatter and start talking too much, screaming and running around naked and getting hysterical, cutting my arms, you know, crazy shit. Breaking windows. But I never have fallen on the floor blue."
She said in a 2000 SPIN interview, "I have many [self-destructive bones], and I've broken a bunch. I think self-destructiveness is given a really bad rap. I think that self-destructiveness can also mean self-reflection, can mean poetic sensibility, it can mean empathy, it can mean a hedonism and a libertarianism and a lack of judgement."
Marilyn Manson
Marilyn Manson was born in Canton, Ohio to Episcopalian parents, a smothering mother and a volatile father suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. As a child he was terrified of the apocalypse and the Antichrist, fears introduced by a grade-school teacher. Manson described himself as an adolescent "worm" with no self-esteem, surrounded by a dysfunctional family and hypocritical, emotionally abusive peers at school and church. As a teenager, Manson stole, and later experimented with black magic, drugs and rock music. Later, after he had formed his band, he would perform bizzare on-stage antics, abused drugs, self-injured, and did other self-destructive things.
Manson first cut himself when he was in the ninth grade during a class, he dug into his forearms with a penknife. Later in life he would cut himself on stage and scar his skin. He had about 450 scars at the publishing of his book, "Long Hard Road out of Hell." Some of his fans have, unfortunately, decided to imitate him. In particular, two girls would follow Manson and would carve the words "Marilyn" and "Manson" on each other's chests and would show up at the concert in the front row with blood from their wounds dripping down their tank tops.
In a 1997 Guitar School interview he stated that he had been hospitalized for depression and scarification [self-injury] but didn't comment further on that. In a 1998 Rolling Stone interview he answered some questions regarding his self-injury, both onstage and offstage. About self-injury he said, "I think that's all a form of wanting to let go, of wanting to get out," and, "It's not something easily described or understood." About the differences between his onstage self-injury and offstage self-injury he said, "I think onstage it was more me trying to show people my pain, and offstage it was just feeling it, period."
In a 1998 Jane interview he said, "I would put myself through a lot of physical pain with drugs or masochistic behavior. And that was something that transformed me, really. I find myself being a different person. Yet no therapy was involved. I've tried a couple of times, but I find that self-examination works better for me than trying to explain it to someone else."
Shirley Manson
Shirley Manson, the sexy, red-haired singer of Garbage, was an angry child. She was teased, tormented, and even beaten-up by her classmates because of her looks. Classmates called her names such as "posh," "bloodhound," and "frog-eyed" because of her red hair and green eyes. As she grew older she became unhappy and violent, and planned to drop out of high school when she turned sixteen. A certain teacher began ridiculing her until, "Until, I think, everyone in that school thought I was less than human. I felt ugly, weak, overwhelmed - I couldn't imagine being capable of doing anything. I certainly never thought I could be in a band. This was a dream it didn't even occur to me to dream about." (1998, Select Magazine) Shirley took up smoking, boys and drinking, she began using drugs on a regular basis during her late teens. In 1995, Shirley and her band released the self-titled, "Garbage," their debut album, which became an instant hit. The lyrics of her songs are well known for revealing her true emotions and feelings.
Shirley Manson has a low self-esteem and hates the way she looks. In a 1998 Select interview she said, "I feel disgusting. I could take a knife to my throat for the way I look. Can someone just put a bin or a bag or a fucking bomb on my head?" As a teenager her feelings of weakness and of being overwhelmed were manifested in cutting, she would snip the safety guards off Bic razors and would cut up her arms. When she was a teenager she used to carry a sharp object in the laces of her boots and would cut herself with it whenever she felt stressed, anxious or depressed; she hid the scars by wearing long pants and boots. She explained in a The Herald article the experience of self-injuring, "I wouldn't say that cutting was pleasurable, but there is a sense of euphoria that follows cutting yourself. The quick pinch of pain and the sight of blood snaps you back to the surface and you start to appreciate being alive."
Shirley Manson no longer self-injures but still feels the urge from time to time. In 1998 she almost relapsed during her European Tour, in which she felt homesick and tired of hearing the males in her group talk about women. She told The Herald about her near relapse, "I ran to my dressing room in a flood of tears. I hated myself all over again for not being thin enough or having a perfect body. It hurt so much that suddenly cutting started to make sense again." She took a penknife and was about to cut herself when a fellow band member walked in.
She has gone public with her past experiences because she feels the need to help others. She said, "I'm speaking out because I feel this problem is getting worse for some kids. I'm not an expert on this, but you have to talk to someone. I've seen kids with cigarette burns on their arms or gashes on their legs. It kills me, but hopefully my coming forward can help a little."
Lyrics from the song, Medication:
"Somebody get me out of here, I'm tearing at myself.
Nobody gives a damn about me, or anybody else..."
Princess Diana
Diana, Princess of Wales, was born on July 1, 1961 to the Viscount and Viscountess of Althorp. Diana's parents divorced when she was six, her mother leaving her father for another man. During the rest of her childhood she shuttled back and forth between two households. At age fourteen, she had described herself as hopeless and a poor student.
Diana began purging the night before her marriage to Prince Charles, having discovered that her fiance was in love with another woman. During her marriage she felt no control over her life, it was a repeat of the pain and betrayal of her childhood.
In a 1995 BBC television interview Diana revealed to the world that she was a self-injurer. She said that she had cut her arms and legs, explaining, "You have so much pain inside yourself that you try and hurt yourself on the outside because you want help." "Diana: Her True Story," a biography written on the princess said that Diana had thrown herself into a glass cabinet at Kensington palace at various times, slashed her wrists with a razor, and cut herself with the serrated edge of a lemon slicer. Once, during a heated argument with Prince Charles, she picked up a penknife and cut her chest and thighs. Her husband still scorned her, and thought she was faking her problems, that it was melodramatic attention seeking. During a fight on an airplane, Diana locked herself in the bathroom, cut her arms, and smeared the blood over the cabin walls and seats. Another time she threw herself down the stairs.
Diana died on August 31, 1997 in an automobile accident with her boyfriend, Dodi Fayed, while trying to evade the paparazzi. She was a courageous women, and gave further prominence to the problem of self-injury.
Christina Ricci
Christina Ricci, an actress since childhood, was born in Santa Monica, California to a lawyer-psychiatrist father and real estate agent mother in 1980. Her parents divorced when she was thirteen. She was discovered at the age of seven and a year later made her screen debut in Mermaids (1990), in which she played Cher's daughter. She showed herself to be a talented, adult actress in the movie, the Ice Storm, in which she played a sexually precocious fourteen-year-old. Christina, a compulsive talker and smoker, is known for her outspokenness on a large number of controversial topics.
In a US magazine interview Christina explained a small, smile-shaped scar on her hand. "I was trying to impress Gaby [Hoffmann, her best friend]. So I heated up a lighter and pressed it on my hand." She revealed other burn scars on her arms and said, "I wanted to see if I can handle pain. It's sort of an experiment to see if I can handle pain." In a SPIN magazine interview she revealed that she sometimes would put out cigarettes out on her arms. When asked if it hurts she replied, "No. You get this endorphin rush. You can actually faint from pain. It takes a second, a little sting, and then it's like you really don't feel anything. It's calming actually." In a 1998 Rolling Stone interview she explained where each scar came from. When she was angry about "not looking very good" Christina heated up a lighter and held it to her hand to impress some boys. Scratches on her forearms came from fingernails and soda tops. She explained, "It's like having a drink. But it's quicker. You know how your brain shuts down from pain? The pain would be so bad, it would force my body to slow down, and I wouldn't be as anxious. It made me calm." Christina also developed anorexia when she was fourteen but has since recovered. In a 1999 Mademoiselle interview she said, "In a way, I was trying to get rid of my breasts. Everyone my age wanted them, so it was like, whoo-ooo. Then I started hating them. And for all of my movies, I was supposed to be younger, so I'd have to strap them down."
When looking back on her self-injury the same interview Christina said, "when I was younger, I did self-mutilate. I'd be upset, so I'd do it, and it would calm me down. It's a horrible way to feel better. But there are two parts of your brain- one that really wants to destroy the other. And sometimes the idea of self-destruction is very romantic. I got over that."
Amy Studt
English Amy Studt, singer, is from Bournemouto, England and was born in London on the 22nd of March, 1986. She has become a pop singer in the United Kingdon and has been compared to Avril Lavigne. She was discovered at the age of sixteen and went on to record a record, False Smiles.
Amy was bullied at school from an early age on before she became famous. In Bliss magazine she said, "When I was about 13, I was constantly bullied at my boarding school in Bournemouth. Girls would shout awful abuse at me in my dorm - to the point where I'd be curled up in a corner, sobbing. They'd call me a `sad loner' or `anorexic smurf'. I didn't have an eating problem, but I'm naturally skinny, and they knew I was sensitive about it. The abuse got me really depressed." The depression led to Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Amy was unable to concentrate on her schoolwork. Classmates and others, including teachers, though she was lazy. The stress caused headaches because of brain swelling and it took several months to diagnose. Even before that Amy had been unlucky. She had developed osteomyelitis, a bone disease that led her to be bedridden, at the age of twelve.
The bullying in her early teens led her to self-injure. Here is what she said about what happened:
The stress of the situation made me so ill i was stuck in a bed for days - but the abuse didn't stop. One time the bullies crept in to flick me with cold baked beans. I remember the day when the name-calling just got too much - I walked into the toilet, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut myself. I just wanted to replace one kind of pain with another - and i thought physical pain would be much easier to deal with. When I cut myself there was something to show for the hurt I was feeling. From then on I always cut myself when they started on me.
No-one knew about the cuts. I wore big jumpers all the time to cover my arms. I was devastated when my brother found out. One day we were putting up a birthday poster on a notice board and my sleeve slipped down revealing my scars. He grabbed my arm and said "what the smurf is that?" It was horrible, and I wouldn't talk about it.
My brother told my parents and close friends, but everyone just skirted round the subject. I hated the fact that people tip-toed around me, i kept thinking `just talk to me about it' but I guess it was really tough for everyone. I was embarrased too, because, let's face it, people think you're completely loopy if you're cutting yourself.
I self harmed for two years in total, even after moving schools and getting away from the bullies. I was feeling much happier but it was my boyfriend who eventually helped me stop. He could see from the scars what I was doing and one day he said `if you're doing it then I'm doing it as well' I did it one last time and he did it too. I was so apalled i didn't do it again.
I know now that self-harming is pointless and doesn't help. If you're being bullied, go and talk to someone you trust. Don't self harm because its not worth it. Chat to someone because if you keep it to yourself it just gets worse. Believe me... I know."
Amy is no longer bullied and her fame has caused past classmates to reconsider their view of her. Sincere or not they may be but she is no longer an outcast. She has overcome her self-destructive behavior and has become successful. Her songs, including "Just a Little Girl," got good radio play at the time of their release. The circumstances that led to her self-injurious behavior have been lifted.
Sid Vicious
Sid Vicious, aka John Simon Ritchie, was born in London, England on May 10, 1957. The legendary member of the Sex Pistols was known for his self-injury done live on stage and a popular and visible icon of the punk movement. He was raised by his mother, Anne Beverly, who was troubled and had a history of heroin abuse.
Sid became part of the Sex Pistols in February of 1977. He couldn't play music and usually had his amp turned down to near-zero because of this. It still did not matter. He was popular. He was a symbol of disaffected youth and the punk revolution. Photographer Dennis Morris said of Sid in a pictorial history of the band, Never Mind the Bollock's, "Deep down he was a shy person. I think he was frightened of the audiences.... Sometimes he showed no emotion at all."
By 1975 he had begun to self-injure. Sid later boasted that his body was covered in scars from self-inflicted cuts. It is also believed that around 1975 he also strangled a cat and assaulted a pensioner. Morris said of a meeting at McLaren's office after a tour, "Sid walked in with this knife stuck in his leg. We said 'Sid, you've got a knife in your leg'. He said 'uh, have I?' and pulled it out. He was so doped up all the time, especially on heroin, he never felt it."
Sid had a relationship with a very troubled woman, Nancy Spungen, who was the person who introduced him to heroin. She had abused drugs and had attempted suicide multiple times over the years. Their relationship has been described as codependent. Morris said, "When they were together he was like a kitten, but without her he would go crazy."
On tour in the USA in 1978 Sid was without Nancy and was increasingly agitated. Morris said, "[Sid] was erratic. No one knew why. It seemed he missed Nancy. Sometimes he wouldn't eat at all. He'd drink heavy and take lots of drugs." He self-injured on stage by slashing his chest and engaged in acts of violence on stage.
On October 12, 1978 Sid Vicious's girfriend, Nancy Spungen, was found dead in their room in a hotel in New York City. Sid had supposedly stabbed her to death. Ten days later Sid attempted suicide by repeatedly slashing his forearm with a knife and screaming, "I want to join Nancy, I didn't keep my part of the bargain," according to author Malcom Butt.
Sid died on February 2, 1979 of a heroin (which he obtained from his mother at a party because she feared he would be arrested buying drugs on the street) overdose while out on bail.
Amy Winehouse
Amy Winehouse is a twenty-four-year-old Jewish girl from North London who is known for her drug abuse, relationship issues, and her crooning voice. Winehouse was born on September 23, 1983. She has been compared to Sid Vicious by Spin.com and is well-known for her song, "Rehab," which is an ode to her refusal to seek help for her drinking problem. Winehouse sports numerous pin-up girl tattoos and her drug and eating disorder problems have made her exceptionally thin. She is known for making drunken public appearances, including a time when she ran off the stage to vomit.
Winehouse's parents, Mitch and Janis, divorced when she was nine; she and her brother lived mainly with her mother in North London. When Amy was ten she and friend, Juliette Ashby, formed a rap duo called Sweet N' Sour after rap group, Salt-n-Pepa. Despite this she didn't plan on becoming a musician. She wanted to become a roller-skating waitress like the ones in American Grafitti. When she was twelve she enrolled in the Sylvia Young Theatre School but was kicked out at the age of fourteen for piercing her nose and her attitude. Winehouse recieved her first guitar at the age of thirteen and by the age of sixteen was singing professionally.
Blake Fielder-Civil and Amy Winehouse have had an intense on-again-off-again relationship which culminated in marriage on May 18, 2007. When the two were separated Winehouse wrong a series of heartbroken songs for her album, Back to Black. This album sealed her fame in the United Kingdom and made her known in the United States.
Winehouse's debut album, Frank, was released in 2003 and was nominated for the Mercury Prize. In 2007 she also won a BRIT Award for Best British Female Artist; she had also been nominated for Best British Album. Back to Black, was announced as one of the twelve albums on the 2007 list of Mercury Prize nominees; she was also nominated for three MTV Video Music Awards in 2007.
Winehouse has bulimia and has struggled with it since she's been a teenager and has also been known to take a series of hard drugs. In October 2006 she told the Daily Mirror that she had had "a little bit of anorexia, a little bit of bulimia. I'm not totally okay now, but I don't think any woman is and most men will agree." In a September 2007 article she was reported to have said she had been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder but refused to take medication. On August 8, 2007 she was admitted to University College Hospital in London after slipping into a drug-induced coma and the Vancouver Sun reported that she stayed at the Causeway treatment centre in Essex for five days.
There are rumors from tabloids that Winehouse has a past history with self-injury, with a cutting incident at the age of nine that she found painful. She reportedly said, "It's a funny thing, a morbid curiosity. I'm talking about when I was nine. What does that feel like? 'Ow, that fucking hurts.' It's probably the worst thing I've done," In Spin.com video Winehouse scrached her exposed midriff with a shard of broken mirror when posing for photographer Terry Richardson. In the same video her husband, Blake Fielder-Civil, asked her, "What did you think about the broken glass?" Winehouse replied, "I wrote 'I love Blake' on my tummy." She lifted her shirt but the cuts were not visible on the video and said, "It's just chicken scratch," while she and Fielder-Civil laughed. Spin.com has reported that Winehouse and Fielder-Civil "have matching crisscross scars and scratches up and down their left arms," though it also said the marks are "presumably from a misbehaving house cat."
On August 23, 2007 Winehouse was seen stumbling the streets with her husband; she was bloody and bruised. It was reported she told blogger, Perez Hilton, "I was cutting myself after he found me in our room about to do drugs with a call girl and rightly said I wasn't good enough for him. I lost it and he saved my life." Her parents-in-law said, after the incident, to boycott her music and stop giving her awards.
Amy Winehouse died July 23, 2011 as a result of alcohol poisoning at the age of twenty-seven.
Elizabeth Wurtzel
Elizabeth Wurtzel, author of "Prozac Nation" and "Bitch," was born on July 31, 1967, in the middle of the Summer of Love. Her parents divorced before she turned two, and her father would sleep through all her visits. Her mother was over-protective and usually unemployed. She describes herself as being a "golden girl" until she turned eleven, a time when she first broke down.
"When I was ten or eleven, I really cracked up, started hiding in the locker room at school, crying for hours, or walking around the corridors saying, Everything is plastic, we're all gonna die anyway, so why does anything matter? I'd read this phrase in a picture of some graffiti in a magazine article about punk rock, which I decided was definitely a great invention. When I stopped talking, stopped eating, stopped going to school, and started spending my time cutting my legs up with razor blades while listening to dumb rock music like Foreigner on a little Panasonic tape recorder, my parents agreed I needed psychiatric help. To make a very long and complicated story short, my mom found a therapist for me, my dad didn't like him and kept trying to sneak me off to others, I never got terribly effective treatment, my father refused to file an insurance claim for the psychiatrist I was seeing, and the whole scenario concluded with me as messed up as ever, but with all the adults involved suing one another. My mom sued my dad for unpaid alimony and child support, my psychiatrist sued my dad for unpaid bills, and after years of lawyers everywhere, my father finally fled to Florida when I was fourteen years old and did not turn up in my life again until my freshman year at Harvard."
Elizabeth was clinically depressed. During her college years she had a series of breakdowns and drug abuse. Finally, she attempted to kill herself in her psychiatrist's bathroom and ended up in a psychiatric hospital. She began taking Prozac, one of the first individuals to take Prozac. She told how it helped her, "Something just kind of changed in me...I became all right, safe in my own skin...One morning I woke up, and I really did want to live...The black wave, for the most part, is gone. On a good day, I don't even think about it any more."
Elizabeth wrote a memoir of her struggles with depression, "Prozac Nation," and a book that describes the history of manipulative female behavior, "Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women." She has written articles and for various newspapers and magazines. In 2000 she revealed that she had become addicted to Ritalin and cocaine during the years after "Prozac Nation," but had checked herself into a clinic where she became clean. In a Daily Telegraph article she said that she is no longer depressed but still has some anxieties.
Elizabeth Wurtzel described her cutting in much better words than I would be able to do:
"I guess the cutting began when I started to spend my lunch period hiding in the girls' locker room, scared to death of everybody around me. I would bring my functional black and silver Panasonic, meant for voice recording and not music, and I would listen intently to the scratchy sounds of the tapes I'd accumulated, mostly popular hard rock like Foreigner, which, trashy as it was, sounded like liberation to me. I'd sit there with my tape recorder, eating cottage cheese and pineapples from a stout thermos I brought from home (I was, by this time, also certain that I was fat), and it was a peaceful relief from having to deal with other people, whether they were teachers or friends. Every so often, I would sit in the locker room on the floor, leaning against the concrete wall while my tape recorder sat on the bench, and I would fantasize about going back to the person I had always been. The reverse transformation couldn't be that much of a leap. I could just try talking to people again. I could get the astonished look off my face, as if my eyes had just been exposed to a terrible glare. I could laugh a bit. I would imagine myself doing the things I once did, like playing tennis. Every so often I would make a decision, first thing in the morning as I headed out the door for the school bus, that I was going to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed that day; I would be friendly, I would smile, I would raise my hand in math class from time to time. I remember those days, because I could see how my friends got this look of relief on their faces. I would walk toward them, standing in a huddle in the blue-carpeted hall outside of the classroom, and they would half expect me to say something like 'Everything's plastic, we're all gonna die' and instead I would just say, Good Morning, And suddenly, their bodies would relax, their shoulders would drop comfortably, and sometimes they would even say, Oh wow, you're the old Lizzy again, kind of like a parent who has finally accepted that his oldest son has become a Shiite Muslim and is moving to Iran when, suddenly, the kid returns home and announces that he wants to go to law school after all. My friends, and my mother for that matter, would be relieved to find that I was more the me they wanted me to be. The trouble was, I thought this alternative persona I had adopted was just that: a put-on, a way of getting attention, a way of being different. And maybe when I first started walking around talking about plastic and death, maybe then it was an experiment. But after a while, the alternative me really just was me. Those days that I tried to be the little girl I was supposed to be drained me. I went home at night and cried for hours because so many people in my life expecting me to be a certain way was too much pressure, as if I'd been held against a wall and interrogated for hours, asked questions I couldn't quite answer any longer. I remember being in a panic one day at school when I realized that I could not even fake being the old Lizzy anymore. I had, indeed, metamorphosed into this nihilistic, unhappy girl. Just like Gregor Samsa waking up to find he'd become a six foot long roach, only in my case, I had invented the monster and now it was overtaking me. This was what I'd come to. This was what I'd be for the rest of my life. Things were bad now and would get worse later. They would. I had not heard the word depression yet, and would not for some time after that, but I felt something very wrong going on. I felt that I was wrong - my hair was wrong, my face was wrong, my personality was wrong - my God, my choice of flavors at the Haagan Dazs shop after school was wrong! How could I walk around with such pasty white skin, such dark, doleful eyes, such straight anemic hair, such round hips and such a small clinched waist? How could I let anybody see me this way? How could I expose other people to my person, to this bane to the world? I was one big mistake. And so, sitting in the locker room, petrified that I was doomed to spend my life hiding from people this way, I took my keys out of my knapsack. On the chain was a sharp nail clipper, which had a nail file attached to it. I rolled down my knee socks (we were required to wear skirts to school) and looked at my bare white legs. I hadn't really started shaving yet, only from time to time because my mother considered me too young, and I looked at the delicate peach fuzz, still soft and untainted. A perfect, clean canvas. So I took the nail file, found its sharp edge, and ran it across my lower leg, watching a red line of blood appear across my skin. I was surprised at how straight the line was and at how easy it was for me to hurt myself in this way. It was almost fun. I was always the sort to pick scabs and peel sunburned skin in sheets off my shoulders, always pestering my body. This was just the next step. And how much more satisfying it was to muck up my own body than relying on mosquitoes and walks in the country among thorny bushes to do it for me. I made a few more scratches, alternating between legs, this time moving the file more quickly, less cautiously. I did not, you see, want to kill myself. Not at that time, anyway. But I wanted to know that if need be, if the desperation got so terribly bad, I could inflict harm on my body. And I could. Knowing this gave me a sense of peace and power, so I started cutting up my legs all the time. Hiding the scars from my mother became a sport of its own. I collected razor blades, I bought a Swiss Army knife, I became fascinated with different kinds of sharp edges and the different cutting sensations they produced. I tried out different shapes - squares, triangles, pentagons, even an awkwardly carved heart, with a stab wound at its center, wanting to see if it hurt the way a real broken heart could hurt. I was amazed and pleased to find that it didn't."
Note
Note: I researched and wrote these biographies. If you are so inclined to take them and use them on your own site (I encourage you to be creative but if you have to) then give credit to Gabrielle and a link back to http://self-injury.net/. Thank you.
Do you know of any other famous self-injurers? If so, please contact me through the form or famous
self-injury [dot] net.

Comments
My story... srry it's so long..
2 weeks () (Permalink)Around the time I was in kindergarten I was living with my mom. She was very kind and loving until the day she met this guy. Around the time she met him everything between my mother and I begin slowly changing. Everything that we did together we no longer did, and why I still don't know to this day. A few months after she met him my mom picked me up from school with the entire backseat of the car stuffed with our clothes. I asked her where we were going and she said that we were moving . When I asked her where she didn't say anything she just continued driving. When we got to our supposedly NEW home i knew already that i wouldn't like it. As time went by I began getting beatings for no reason, and not by my mom. Her new boyfriend began beating me just because I lost those little bows that go on the end of your ponytails, or because I got my homonyms correct (specifically bear and bare). What killed me the most is that my mom didn't do ANYTHING. She watched everything, or would go in another room and try to drown out the sound of her own child screaming for her while her boyfriend beat her . As time progressed I later found out that I was going to have a little sister. I was kind of happy because I thought that would keep her boyfriend away from me, and kind of sad because I thought she would feel what I went through. But, I was completely wrong. It turned out that my beating got worse. I was blamed for anything and everything. If my sister fell I got beating, if she ripped up my homework I got a beating, If she wrote on the walls I got a beating. Around the time my aunt saw that I had scars on my back and legs because of the beatings she persuaded my mom to her keep me. That was probably the greatestt day of my life, until my mom's boyfriend said something about money, and proposed. I was back living with my mom and her now former fiance. As years went by and I was in 3rd grade, I was so eager to go to school, because that was the only 8 hours where I could get away. But, my mom told me not to got to school, as an obedient child I obeyed. I went back to bed thinking that I could sleep my day away, and not be able to get in trouble, until mom's fiance's son came into my room and started poking me. As a reaction I thought it was his dad and jumped. When I saw who it was I just looked at him. Then he asked me " You wanna play house?" i thought he meant house as in dolls and stuff, so I said told him yeah, and he walked to my door and closed it. I thought this was really weird, but i paid no attention to it. He then walked over to me and began touching me in innappropriate places. It felt good, but I just new that it wasn't right. i was somewhat 8/9 and he was 12/13. I told him to stop but he ignored me. Then he grabbed my hand and asked me if I knew what that was for. I told him no, and he said it was meant to be licked. He grabbed my head and forced my to suck his private area, and I guess an hour passed and his dad came looking to see what we were doing and saw me sucking his private. He told his son to get out the room and called my mom. Mom gave me a beating and asked me questions about if I was touched on my cupcake. i told lied and told her no. and the whole entire situation was over. until I was incredible bored out of my mind and asked mom's fiance if I could watch t.v. he told me no and i said okay. but then he grabbed me and said what would you do to get your t.v. back in your room. I said i don't know. then he took me to my room and leaned on my bathroom door and forced me to suck his private area. After that took place he through me on the bed. I got so scared, I thought he was going to hurt me but he didn't. he just threw me on the bed. he put the t.v. back in my room, and i cried until my mom came back home. As time passed I got in the 6th grade and my grandfather's wife decided upon herself to keep me. i thought i would be happy living there but i lied to myself. living there was like living with mom all over again. i got beating just for crying, or just for forgetting things i really shouldn't. as i got in the 9 th grade i couldn't take it anymore and i needed to feel pain. any pain. i didn't care if it left marks, scars, or etc. i just needed. i started burning myself with the iron, or "accidentlly" dropping candle wax on wrists. i started literally starving my self. then me starving myself began getting noticable to others. because i wouldn't eat purposly for days. the longets i went without eating would probably be 4 and a half days. then i met this girl at school who could tell that i was depressed and showed me her scars from the times when she cut herslef. i showed her mine, and told her that i chose not to cut and to burn. as time grew even more. my step-grandmother started calling me ugly, weird, a whore, and etc. and i just need to feel something more than just burning myself so i began to take that girl's advice and started cutting myself. months later. i couldn't take it period. i thought that me feeling the way that i was i thought i should've just died. son i tried hanging my self on my shower doors railing at the top, but the railing broke and almost hit me dead on...i sat in my bathroom thinking that i should've died, and started blaming my self for my failed suicide attempt....really in the mood of dying...i left the broken rail on the bathroom floor and went inside the kitchen looking for sleeping pills...when i found them i took 5 of them and waited for them to kick in...when they did i began getting drowsy and panicked...i called my best friend and told her what i had done. and she told me to call 911...i told her no because no one can ever find out..and she told me to just die and hung up the phone. i felt that i should have died but instead forced myself to puke and the pills came up...i went back to my bedroom and began cutting endlessly. around christmas break everyone found out that i was cutting and blamed the girl that showed ,me her scars...i told my mom and she told me that i was going to live with my grandma...im now 14 living with my grandma...but i still have the urge to cut again..and just end my pain..and the insults of being called ugly, a whore, etc.
if you have any advice you wanna give me my email is xoxotragicsoul
aol [dot] com
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Just another story
3 weeks () (Permalink)I'm sorry for the long post, I just finally feel like sharing my story. I'm a girl, I'm 21. I started to cut quite late, when I was 19 and I still do it. If you're not interested, skip.
I was never popular at my primary school, since my childhood I was somehow different. I read lots of books, I was a bit ahead of the kids in my class and I was allowed to read during the lessons and not pay attention, because it just wasn't necessary. I didn't really have any good friends, except for one girl who thought she was my friend but I actually felt like she had a reign over me. I can't quite say she was a bully, but she was very authoritarian and I was afraid of her.
I was never really taught to defend myself and say "no" to people, my mum sometimes punished me for being disobedient so I was too weak to face her.
When I got to the grammar school after finishing 4 years of primary, it started to get a little better. My "friend" went to the same school, but fortunately she changed a lot, she grew up and became more acceptable, there was no need to defend anymore. I found some more friends, but as I've never been a people's person, I didn't quite know how to keep them. However, I managed to make one very good friend, a boy who I met at art school. I considered him my best for years. I spent my time at home playing PC games and watching movies with him or sometimes just hanging out, doing nothing, spending time on the playground for kids and just talking and swinging for hours and hours.
I have always been depressive, when we were around 12 or 13 we were planning to kill ourselves but fortunately we didn't have the strength to do it. Life went on, I was feeling miserable until on the summer when I was 14 I got a really bad depression and I even stopped menstruating. Later that summer I fell in love with someone and I was hoping it will end well. Things looked good, I turned 15 in the autumn when suddenly he told me he went back to his ex. I became terribly depressed again and when the Christmas time came I was barely able to get out of the bed, nothing made sense, neither did waking up... In January I met a man 7 years older than me who was seriously interested in me and I just thought "why not..." That's how a relationship of 4,5 years started.
The first 2 years were awesome, I felt quite happy and I was in love. Then during the third year I began to feel like he takes me for granted and he doesn't' t really care anymore. I tried to tell him, but he just kept acting like he could do nothing about it and that's just the way things are. After 3 years I started to feel really frustrated and I tried by all means to save the relationship, I told him when I didn't like something, I tried to suggest what to do to make things better but he just didn't care. After 4,5 years I couldn't take it anymore (by that time we started living together because I thought it will make things better but it just didn't) and I broke up with him. I missed him terribly for the first few days, but I got over it, our relationship was dead for a long time and there were no emotions left from my side.
I found someone with whom I felt really lucky, it lasted only for 3 months, but those were the happiest 3 months of my life. Well, they would have been if this thing with my parents didn't happen. When I broke up with my bf, I lived with my dad for a while, he was renting a flat in the city he works in and I live and study in (my hometown is 100km away and he used to travel ever day, I lived there with my bf) and I started to have a suspicion. I figured out my dad had a girlfriend. A week after that he told us it was true and my mum couldn't handle it, she broke down completely. She didn't want to tell anyone so I was one of the 2 people who knew, the other one was my grandma.
I couldn't be on anybody's side and I had to listen to my mum's cries everyday, it was all the same all the time, she kept asking for my opinion about the same things over and over and when I told her she kept questioning it and blaming me why I'm saying it, she started to take some antidepressants and sometimes she would threaten us that she will kill herself. When my reaction was different than she expected, she started yelling at me about how I'm not even trying to understand her and I have completely no feelings, I'm heartless and selfish and I don't care about her at all and she might as well kill herself. I tried to support her through all this, in the meantime my "relationship" of 3 months ended so I became depressed again and I started to cut myself. I began to think about suicide quite frequently. I managed to stay with my mum till the end of this drama, shortly before Christmas my dad left his girlfriend and he came back to us. I remember that on the exact day he left her I was going back to the city I study in from my hometown and I was standing on the platform, As I saw the train approaching for a few seconds I was considering jumping there. It felt so real. Then the seconds were over and I stepped back and waited for the train to come and stop.
Since the end of my 3 month relationship I feel empty. Nothing makes me really happy. I live on my own now and since my dad returned to us my parents suddenly decided to give me less money. I don't have money to pay my rent, sometimes I rather don't eat to save something from my pocket money. I study, I work for an NGO and another company to make money, but I don't have enough time. I feel like nothing makes sense once again, life doesn't have any meaning. I'm not good at anything and I doubt that I ever will be. When I screw something up or do worse than I expected, I cut myself as a punishment. When I'm stressed out or nervous, I cut myself to calm down and make it go away. I drink a lot whenever I have the opportunity and as I'm from a country where people always find a reason to drink, it' s quite often. It makes me forget. I sometimes also do weed because it makes me relived, calm and happier. I also smoke, it calms me down and it just feels good. I keep cutting myself because it helps me feel better. I have my left wrist, some parts of my forearm and my right hip covered in scars. My parents never noticed. I guess I'm just not important when there are other problems. I'm not important even if they ended, I just had to be there to help and support. After it's over, I don't matter anymore. I go home once in 3 weeks and I don't rally feel like they miss me. I'm an only child.
I don't think the cutting or any of this will end soon. Just wanted to share my story.
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There is hope on the horizon, smiles without self harm
3 weeks () (Permalink)I can't count the scars on my arm. Some of them have now faded so much that it seems only I can still see them. Others are simply crisscross-crossed so confusingly that they can't be told apart. Others are especially clear simply because I would reopen them again & again so that the few friends I trusted with my secret couldn't tell whether or not I was telling the truth when I said I hadn't self-harmed in a day, a week, when they checked my arm for new cuts. The burns are even better hidden--so faded you'd have to be looking right at my arm to see them, & so small it wouldn't occur they could be burns.
My inner-thigh is a different story. Fewer scars, but they're the most obvious scars on my body. It looks like my body just gave up trying to fix them after a while so just did the bare minimum of healing. The only person who ever really sees them is my partner, who leaned down & kiss them when we first got together when he first saw them, as he said even my scars--those ugly parts of my life, the moutain of baggage I carry--were still beautiful to him, because they were a part of me.
I am here today because of my best friend. She didn't listen to me asking her to keep it a secret or bother about privacy after I had a breakdown over the phone to her. The next morning I received a call from her school councillor. She got herself pulled out of class for the day, went to find me with the councillor. Stayed the night, was with me when I made my own councilling appointments, took me to my first one herself. Taught me that true friends are the ones who put your safety above honour & when push comes to shove will go behind your back & break any code of silence they have to in order to save you, even from yourself.
She also has extraordinary luck at interruption timing. First, she managed to move to be right behind me when I was climbing into my jumping position. Held my hand the rest of the evening & for once didn't Jay-walk, preventing me from stepping onto the road too soon. Almost a year later, & she managed to wake up after I made the first of my 2-cut plan. Bandaged me up & stayed awake all night with me.
Turns out she never even realised any of those were Attempts until I told her last year, a year on.
I can't remember when I started digging my nails in or biting myself. At some point in highschool I started digging pens & thin blunt objects into my arms until it hurt. I cut for the first time when I was 18 & in my first year of university. At 19 the following year I became addicted to it when my Depression returned. So addicted that my doctor started recommending I self harm by putting ice on sensitive parts of my skin or other ways of hurting myself without injury, because that was safer. By the time I was 20, self-harm was the only way I could handle my lows & my panic attacks.
At least, that's what I thought. Now I realise that self-harm does not count as "handling" a problem. It handles a problem the same way burying yourself alive handles a fear of heights. The short-term relief makes long term solutions that much harder to come by.
I'm 21 now. Preparing to start my 4th year of university: Depression & Anxiety screwed with my grades so much that I managed to fail almost half of my courses. I still cope with an anxiety disorder. I suspect my Depression is on it's way back: I know the signs now, & I'm planning on arranging a doctor's appointment once term starts back up so I can look into having the professional help needed all ready should things start to look grim. I've had counselling for the most pressing of my issues in the past, I'm seeking advise for a longer-term counselling solution for the future. I've found that fluoxitine has worked for me in the past, although I've had to take it in higher doses when things have been at their worst.
But I have a partner (live-in boyfriend) who loves me--we intend to get engaged in a year or so when there's a steady income & more permanent living conditions. I have a handful of close friends who mean the world to me. I'm fixing my relationships with my parents. My life may not be perfect, but it is worth living.
I haven't cut or burnt in almost a year. I still crave doing so, at my lowest points--it's part of the reason I know I need to keep fighting. But I've got better ways of dealing with things, ways which actually help me cope. I talk to my partner. I read a book. I force myself to watch a happy cartoon episode. I do Sudoku until my eraser starts turning black from all the rubbings-out. I cuddle my pets. I do anything I need to in order to distract myself long enough to calm down enough to try to figure out what I can actually do next. When things get rough, I tell my boyfriend, or whoever I have there that I can ask, to keep an eye on me & stay with me until we're both certain I'll be ok again. I've let enough people know my situation that I can generally get someone to watch out for me without asking questions.
If nothing else, there are crisis hotlines in most countries I am aware of that can be called to talk to when needed.
Things aren't perfect. I will likely always have days when I feel numb & nights when I feel like there is nothing lower in all the world. But I have weeks when I am happy. I have days when my face hurts from smiling, moments where my sides hurt from laughing. Over all, I am content with my life.
My scars don't tell me that I'm a failure any more. They tell me that I am a warrior who has survived many battles, & lived to see peace.
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Cutting
3 months () (Permalink)So I am 16 and started cutting when i was 15. I grew up in a normal Christian home. Good loving parents that never beat me ad took good care of me. At age 13 i was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. On April 8, 2009. That day my life was destroyed. I thought i could handle it but a year later i started becoming suicidal. I didnt know what to do i thought i was a freak and no one understood me. No one can understand what its like to live with a disease you cant get rid of and have very little control over.
Later that year after i had turned 15 i started cutting on September 9, 2010. Just that first cut was all it took for some much needed relief. I didnt do a ton and the most i ever did at once was 8. But they kept adding up. I would cut when i felt like there was nothing i could do and i was angry or pissed off. to this day i have cut myself 74 times.
My parents found out about 6 months after i had started because of a physical. The doctor saw them and told my mom. I was already in counseling for anger issues and this was just thrown in along that. Yes i was doing it for some attention because my parents didnt cared what i did as long as i didnt inconvenience them and i did my chores. But i also did it to feel something because i had cut myself off from emotion. No one cared what i felt so i just stopped feeling. My friends knew but they felt like they couldnt do anything to help.
I still cut and have no intention of stopping. It helps me keep my head clear and feel something when i need to. And with not being able to control my diabetes and my life at least i can control the pain. and honestly i dont feel pain when i do it just afterwards when it is healing. But i am now on Zoloft and it helps me keep my mood up but i wont stop. I dont know that i can stop. Im starting counseling again soon maybe that will help but who knows.
If anybody wants to talk my email is. jordymaest
aol [dot] com
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Our scars remind us that the past is real.
6 months () (Permalink).. in fact that statement is true, for good or worse. You look at your scars (inside and outside ones) and you remember everything you went through, or still are, and some of us may find them shameful, or even repulsing. But on the other hand, you should/could look at them with a sense if pride, since you've found a way of overcoming (or at least coping with) these hardships
Any way of COPING with the world (be it cutting, burning, eating, not eating, drinking) is better than letting go of this life the definite way. May sound harsh, but when you stop and think about it, it actually makes sense. At least for me.
I've been cutting, burning, smashing, starving, overeating, pinching, biting, acting promiscuously, consuming numerous amounts of alcohol and drugs, just any thinkable thing you can do to your own self, for over 6 years, and still am. And I thank myself for doing so.
No, I'm not saying that these things won't have consequences, 'cuz they will.
The point I'm trying to make is this:
When ones life is at the lowest low, and you're at the verge of mass self destruction, you decide to pick up that razor instead. You decide to purge that pain. Do drugs. You fuck shit up.
You give other people time to come and save you, 'cuz they're trying to.
You give yourself time, 'cuz I know we're all trying to hang on.
Scars will heal with time, but you only have one life.
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This is my story.
6 months () (Permalink)Ever since I was little my life was great, I was naive which made it all easy. Until 6th grade came around, I started to realize how my body was maturing more than the other girls, and I thought it was wrong. I was taller, wider. So I would stop eating every now and then. That progressed threw 7th grade. And by 8th grade I knew I was better than that. But by the end of 8th grade I ended up getting teased and bullied, because i tried to be what I wasn't. By then I was cutting my self, & my eating disorder came back. I stopped by 9th grade ended. When everyone found out, but honestly if no one would of found out I'd still be doing it. I felt like no one cared. Even now and days I still feel like how I used to, and I want to finish what I started. But looking at my scars scares me not to do it anymore. Now that I know I have a loving family, that would do anything for me.
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my only secret
7 months () (Permalink)Im really scared to write this as ive never told another person, compared to some others on here this seems extremely insignificant but understand ive kept this to myself for years + someone might be able to relate. I should mention i started heavily drinking at the age of 11 and had a problem till i was 14, i drank whole crates of cider and bottles of spirits everyday without fail, it may sound unreal for a child to get this amount of alcohol but lets just say i lived in a really bad area. Ok so when i was 15 i had a long term boyfriend and i basically fell in love with his best friend, who was a girl. By the way she knew this and was in love with me too but scared to come out. This left me sexually confused and depressed because of wanting to be with both of them. I left my bf for her but after a few weeks of sneaking around she told me she loved me but was going to force herself to be straight and got a bf. It was at this point i began drinking again and self harming to stop myself feeling the emotional pain of losing them both and being confused about myself. After starting to get over her we had a drunken night and had sex, which ended in her avoiding me for weeks afterwards and me having a break down. I stopped cutting myself when i went to college away from my ex's and settled down with my current girlfriend. i covered it well so my family, friends and girlfriend dont know meaning this is the first time ive let it out to anyone, thank you.
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confusion
7 months () (Permalink)ok so with the new name of anonymous i feel safer in asking for advice..
I weigh a normal weight of 9 stone, i am 5'6.
I feel as though i am obsessed with the idea of controlling my weight yet my abilities to actually control it are poor. I binge some nights resulting in me throwing up.. i do this around 4 times a week, but i feel as though im not bulemic? Is this the disease consuming my mind or are my feelings right? I feel really lost and the only way i feel i can let out some of my emotions is to post under anonymous, that is if i even have the guts to press send. I know that in a few minutes ill be eating again and i feel dissapointed. I look in the mirror and see nothing but hate and disgust.
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Re: confusion
3 months () (Permalink)I agree with you.
I am currently 15 and was born with an overweight gene that has been passed down from generation to generation in my family. All I want is for me to just be skinny, just for one day at least so I can soak it up. I mean, is that so wrong? But that will never happen. I've tried numerous things, including purging. I have accepted my weight, but it kills me inside sometimes. There is no way in heck that I am allowed to judge you (which I wouldn't anyway) but you do most likely have an eating disorder. Either binge eating or bulimia nervosa. I am most definitely not trying to sound like a know it all, I'm just trying to help. These disease do that, they make you believe that it isn't the actual disease but your mind. You are probably a beautiful person, and I know you are sick of hearing that, but so was I until I realized I am, if I just admit. I know I am a stranger to you, and I replied 4 months too late, but if you have ANY questions or want someone to talk to, I'm here. I wouldn't mind someone to talk to either. I just want to feel like I can help someone, without being the one in requiring help. Thanks....(:
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i guess i'll tell my story now
7 months () (Permalink)Hi, I'm 17. I consider my life to have been pretty average until around 8th grade. There were several times before then of bullying and ostracization but I'm assuming I was still happy, or at least normal. It's hard to say though, I can barely remember. But anyway, around 14 I started losing interest in things that made me happy, I used to love books but suddenly reading them took so much effort. I picked fights with my few friends because I just wanted to be alone. Around 15/16 I started getting seriously depressed, very nihilistic. What got me through the second half of my sophomore year was the fact that I knew that I would be traveling to France for 2 months that summer. I thought to myself, I can't kill myself because I need to see France, France will make me happy again. Well, I was pretty happy, for about 2 weeks in. And then the depression kicked in again, constantly just wanting to die, not to mention around 6 weeks in I was very homesick. I finally gave in and called my mom to please please take me to see a therapist when I came back. She asked if I was depressed, then if i was suicidal. I was honest with her, and she was very worried. When I came back, I was more depressed than ever. I had ostracized almost all of my friends in high school and was feeling the consequences. In November of my junior year, I found a pin on my floor and on impulse scratched my legs over and over, as hard as I could. I didn't even bleed. A couple weeks later, I got the urge to paint. I used my own blood. I cut deeply into my leg with a knife to paint with, and seeing the blood flow out just felt so good. After I finished the painting, I kept cutting myself, just because I enjoyed it so much. Ever since then, I just feel this pressure of depression filling me up, and I get the urge so badly, and cutting myself is just like releasing the air out of a balloon, it makes me so calm. I started cutting my hips instead of my thighs, I live in FL so short sleeves and short shorts are the norm, and that covered it up very sufficiently. I realized how addicted I was to it, so I let my mom know what was up. She cried, she loves me so much and I know how much I'm stressing her out but I just can't help it. I have gone back to pins instead of cutting the blades out of razors and using that, for her, so that's an improvement. I've also been better because I've been taking 30mg lexapro. However, I'm switching to something else because lexapro just isn't working for me anymore. I can feel the depression taking over me again. It feels good to type all of this out. Wish me luck guys, and good luck to all of you too. I hope we all get better.
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SI has physiological basis
8 months () (Permalink)There is some pretty fascinating community building here. I really wish voices that had more experience in the field centered around coping and recovery could be made available to the forum. There is no prevailing medicinal qualifier for self Injury symptoms
http://www.dailyrx.com/news-article/self-injury-has-calming-effect-some-1890.html
evidence amassed from imaging studies of people with borderline personality disorder indicates there are real physiological going on in the brain associated with these behavior patterns.
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Um, hi, i guess. Im 14 now
8 months () (Permalink)Um, hi, i guess. Im 14 now and i was diognosed with depression when i was 9. I was on medication for a year or so. I hated taking the medication. Especially on my grade 5 school camp, everyone called me weird. Well, i was used to that coz ive been teased and bullied since i was 7. Since grade 5, i havnt been on meds, i had been handeling things okay, until the stress of this year got to me. I started cutting a couple of weeks ago. I mean, i had pinched myself and scraped my arm with my nails or anything sharp for as long as i can remember. My parents had another fight and i got upset, so i grabbed my siscors and cut. I dont know why but scince then i've been cutting every time i get stressed even if its over something stupid such as losing a life in a video game. I told my bff today as she used to cut herself, and we talked for a while. 3 other friends of mine SI too. But i have SIed longer, since i was a kid. The last time i hurt myself was a little while ago. Probely about 3-4 hours ago. I know i should stop, but i cant. Especially with all the stress. I just wish i could stop. Either that or go to sleep tonight and not wake up come schooltime.
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.
8 months () (Permalink)Hey I know what you mean when it comes to losing a life in a video game. I used to get really mad and everything and throw my controller as hard as I could at the ground and scream really loud. As far as that goes chewing gum helped me out a lot there. I can't be on for long right now 'cause I'm heading to a movie, but I'd like to talk with you a little bit and get to know you if that's alright? My email is Christianman2015189
gmail [dot] com Just send me an email if you want to keep talking ok?
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i can relate to everyone here
9 months () (Permalink)i don't think anyone will take me seriously, but i'm 13 and i've cut for a year now. what first started as only little games with knife barely touching my skin, now has grown into an addiction. now, i cut a lot and i cut deep. it's difficult to wear long sleeves in lithuania, in summer it gets excruciatingly hot, but i still don't dare to wear short sleeves. my mother know about it and she totally doesn't care about it. when she first saw it, she said something about a psychologist, but didn't really do anything about it. we've had a big argument recently, where she admitted she did read my diary, saw all my entries about self harm and even my suicide plan, and she just kept silent about it, obviously thinking that pretending nothing's going on will make it go away. as for now, nobody in my class has seen my scars except for my only friend in here, diana. anytime someone goes like 'pass the knife, if she says "can't you understand" one more time, i'm going to cut my veins' i get paranoid, whether diana has said something about my cutting. my life is spiralling downwards and i can't do anything about it.
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.
9 months () (Permalink)Hello Anonymous,
I know what you mean when you say you started out barely touching your skin then going deeper 'cause that's exactly how I started doing it. But even that little bit can be enough to get one's self addicted to it. I can tell you that after looking back to when I started cutting to now, it wasn't worth it for me or for the friends I let know. Not only are you hurting yourself by cutting, you're hurting the people around you. This is going to sound very generic but find something you enjoy doing. Try something new for a hobby, something that you can do at anytime during the day just in case you're feeling down. Some of the things I really enjoy doing are juggling, running, playing DDR, hanging out with friends, playing videogames, etc. Juggling takes time to learn but it's an awesome stress reliever at times and when you get goo enough you can impress lots of people by juggling 3, 4, 5, and even more objects than that. I have been juggling on and off for about 5 years now and I can juggle about 5 balls kind of... :/ Through juggling, however, I've met a lot of people that I stay in contact with which is really cool because you meet such a wide variety of people. Another good thing to do is laugh. Laughter is an amazing gift that we have because it is one of the strongest human means of expressing emotions. Find some jokes online, look up funny Youtubevideos, wear silly clothing. I wear socks and sandals pretty regularly. That's not odd in and of itself but it's not very common. I live in the USA and I'm going to college this fall. I'm planning, so far, to wear an Ash Ketchum (Pokemon) outfit on my first day of college. Try something odd like that and see what kind of results you get. Cutting has never been worth it. The physical pain of it may be worth it for a little bit, but in the end I regretted it.
Stay in touch with me if you'd like. My email is christianman2015189
gmail [dot] com Here are some Youtube videos that I enjoy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCdmiZyyGjQ This video has a racist title but the content is anything but racist.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTasT5h0LEg Definitely one of my favorites!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKtlK7sn0JQ Funny song by Weird Al called Ebay
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hEcjgJSqSRU Funny song by Weird Al about Star Wars
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=astISOttCQ0 Silly Gummy Bear...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTQHJaR-Vu8 Insanity DDRer on Pokemon Theme song
Those are all for now for a must go to class. I hope the best for you!
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there maybe an answer
1 year () (Permalink)Hi everybody,
Cutting means your inner child punishing himself.
There is an inner child in everyone of us. If during childhood we receive the love we need from our parents, this inner child will be happy and later will help the adult we become.
However, when as a child one does not receive the needed love from his parents for various reasons (parents abuse him and even maltreats him or most of the times he is JUST WITNESS to the unhappiness of his parents - fights, divorce, depression or is born to replace a deceased child) then the child SUBCONSCIOUSLY feels guilty for that. He feels in his subconscious level that he is not good enough for the parents to love him. This is called "early childhood depression"
So the child will embrace on 2 different ways:
- either the inner child will push the person to PUNISH himself (cutting, putting himself in different failure situations - personal of professional)
- either the inner child will push the person to PROVE HIS INNOCENCE (always being good, gentile, taking care of others and forgetting himself - a life of mother Teresa or Saint Bernard)
Alcohol, drugs and all other addictions are all means of not listening to your inner child, not listening to him.
You need psychoanalysis, not medication. You need to understand, listen and face your inner child.
For those of you who speak French there is a book written by Moussa Nabati : "Le bonheur détre soi". There maybe an audiobook in English - "The happiness of being oneself" on Amazon.
Be courageous, discover yourself.
M.
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I was a perfect Christian
4 months () (Permalink)I was a perfect Christian little girl, loved by perfect Christian parents in a solid nuclear family. So sheltered and naive I didn't even know about mental illness until I got it myself - I have a beautiful combo of rapid-cycling bipolar and schizophrenia, I'm 17 and have had it (and the attention span of a squirrel) since I was 15. Yes, I got to 15 just fine and then I went totally crazy. When I was 16 I started cutting myself to cope with the depression and voices that told me to commit suicide.
My 'inner child,' as you call it, has had plenty of time to grow up being loved. I was loved. I still am. I just don't believe I'm worth it and if God would just leave me alone I might find peace...yeah, not in a great headspace at the moment. Not that I'm ever fine.
It was not my parents. I do not need Freudian psychoanalysis. Parents are not the cause of everything. I've seen my friends grow up with divorce, abuse, depression, addictions and rape. They're okay.
xoxo
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I believe this post is going
1 year () (Permalink)I believe this post is going to be an obnoxiously long one. I typed this as an email to someone who posted on this site. I decided copy and paste was faster than typing so I just copied the entire email I sent (her). It has my story contained in it. If you would like to read her comment hold ctrl+f so that a find bar comes up. Type 'I play' into that bar and it should take you directly to her post. Scroll up and start reading, although I warn you it's a long one like mine. I hope what you read makes a difference in your life :)
I read your post on http://self-injury.net/media/famous-self-injurers.
You posted in 2010 so I hope you're still open for talking about
cutting. I'm would presume you a junior now? I'm a senior in high
school (they should make high school one word so i stop misspelling
it!) by the way. I think it's so amazing that people can share such
personal stories with people online, in person, or whatever. When I
stop to think about where I've been in the past month-year, I realize
I wouldn't trade any of it for a better life 'cause I have it so great
now. It's not perfect by any means or really even that great, but
where I've been I can relate to others and help them with their
problems, you know? It's one of those things where if you haven't been
there, you don't know what to say/do.
I started cutting Nov. 27 2010 (I know the date 'cause I texted my
friend for help on the 4th night). The week before and most of the
preceding month had been horrendous for me. I had lots of intense
classes. These were Intro to Psych (college class), Physics (very
difficult class), German 1 (as if English isn't a stressing enough
language), Experiments in Science (not too difficult of a class but I
disliked the teacher. She taught Physics too), Drafting 4 (Easiest
class ever but also the most fun), and band. We have block scheduling
so Drafting and Exp. in Science were only quarter classes. Short,
sweet, and to the point I was frustrated with the work load. On top of
school I work at Casey's. The assistant manager made me feel like crap
and it always felt like she was taking advantage of the employees.
Marissa, my girlfriend, was mad at me. She was jealous of Katelyn
(practically my sister-friend because we're so close) and that I
talked to her so much. I talked to Katelyn about everything pretty
much, especially personal issues in my life. I didn't take them to
Marissa just because it was just easier to talk to Katelyn. Who knows
why it just was I guess. Probably the biggest contributor to my stress
was Everything. Everything being defined as other people's moods. I'm
the kind of guy who helps people out. That's who I am, or try to be.
Some of my friends were going at life alone. I didn't want them to
have to go through life alone so I became their friend. The two
friends I did make had started cutting, one for a long time (I don't
know exactly how long) and the other in August (Katelyn). Everyone's
depressed mood was really getting to me. I was just upset about my
life in general. There was no big shabang in my life to set me off.
So that Friday night after working at Casey's I found a box cutter
knife in my uniform (nothing unusual about that at all, everyone takes
them home on accident). I had been wrestling with myself for several
months at this point as to whether or not to start into cutting. I
knew I didn't want to but I couldn't see any other form of escape, no
matter how temporary. I slid the knife open and held it on the hand
end. I set the blade on my wrist and pulled the sharp edge against my
skin. I didn't really do anything but I liked the feeling. I did it
again only pressing down on it a little bit more each time. I did the
same thing Saturday and Sunday night, proceeding to actually making
cuts. Come Monday night I was at my worst. I was on Facebook, looking
for anyone I could talk to. The few people I found either didn't
respond or had to go to bed. One of the people I actually told her
that I felt like my life was falling apart and she's just like, "Well,
I only got on Facebook to check some stuff so I'm going to bed now." I
was really hurt by that, considering I thought she was one of my
closer friends, even we didn't talk much anymore and I only knew her
from camp. I got off of the computer and sat down in the living room.
I texted Ashlee "I cood rly use a friend rite now if ur awake." She
texted me back asking what was wrong. i told her I just felt like my
life was falling apart and I couldn't hold it together much longer.
She had me pray for 10 things that I was thankful for. I ended up with
about 15 when I texted her back, saying that I felt much better, which
I did. I had been so bent on focusing on the negative in my life I
wasn't thinking about anything positive. She then told me that there
was a verse that had been popping into her mind since I texted her.
Amazingly I just found this verse by checking my history. It was Psalm
32:5 "Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my
iniquity. I said, "I will confess my transgressions to the LORD"--and
you forgave the guilt of my sin. Selah" Wow. I then told her of my
problem with cutting. She was mad at me but she was being in good
friend at the same time. She told me that I couldn't do that and I had
to be strong. The verse from the previous week's youth group came to
mind. 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 19 Do you not know that your bodies are
temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from
God? You are not your own; 20 you were bought at a price. Therefore
honor God with your bodies. Another wow. A wow especially since a
testimony was given that night about going through things in life such
as this. So after that I stopped. I hid the scars but I told quite a
few of my friends. I'm a very open person about my life in general I
guess, but still I heard the scars because I wasn't proud of where I'd
been and how I'd coped with it. I only told the friends I knew that
would keep it a secret. All of them did.
Flash forward to now.
About a week or so ago I went back. I did it for another 2 days before
telling Katelyn and then Marissa (again with the telling Katelyn
before Marissa). The first time I started cutting I was intensely
stressed out and depressed from all of the depression around me. When
I went back just recently, it was because I wasn't feeling anything.
Even after my girlfriend of 9 months told me she though we couldn't
date anymore if I went into the Marines, I didn't feel much. I didn't
want her to (and we're still together on that note) but she doesn't
really see an alternative. So after a while I went back for those 2
days. The pain was almost something indescribable. Even though I knew
it wasn't good to be cutting again I liked it. I liked the feeling of
something real instead of just the numbness of the nothingness all
around me. These cuts were a bit deeper and I can still see the scars,
but I haven't gone back since those 2 days. The funny thing is I WANT
to go back but I'm not going to because it's wrong for me to do so.
The thing that gives me the most strength is Marissa. She's been
struggling with suicidal thoughts for a while. She's also considered
cutting, whether 'cause she already had thought about it or had only
thought about it after I told her that I had done it. She doesn't want
to give up on life either and I'm trying my best that I can to help
her. Lead Me by Sanctus Real is a beautiful song that speaks so much
strength into me not to go back. I would die without Marissa, or for
that matter any of my close friends. Marissa, Tori, Katelyn, Micaila.
My friends mean more than life to me and without any one of them life
would be so much harder than it already has been. Between those 4
people, they've all been where I've been (excluding Marissa as far as
cutting goes). They are the people I lean on to keep me going.
Ecclesiastes 4:12
Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of
three strands is not quickly broken. One of my favorite verses. I'm
getting happier everyday and everyday is easier to keep my head up.
This is what my Facebook status is: Absolutely now is normal.
Absolutely 3 months ago was a fight for survival, a quest for peace of
sorts. Relative to the preceding 6-7 months before that it was going
downhill. Relative to that part of my life, the now absolutely normal
is relatively fantastic in its normalness.
If you like to think a lot than this should be fun to consider. It was
fun to think about and type. :)
You also said you like music a lot. Do you play other instruments in
band at all? That is, besides piano or guitar? I love music as well. I
met an incredible person at All-state this year. She's brilliant as
far as music is concerned, playing several different instruments as
well. Bass clarinet of course being the best instrument ever! I
mention her too because she's a cutter as well. Her and I were pretty
open from the start. She's been cutting for 5 years and she's 16 years
old. I feel great pain for her 'cause she's such a happy person on the
outside. I guess people mostly like to hide themselves away so no one
can find out what's really going on in their lives.
On a not-so-different note i was wondering if you might be of some
assistance to me? I'm in high school and for my last year of speech
I'm actually doing some serious topics for speech. I'm going to make
an original oratory about cutting. Although after reading that page
that you posted on (I read almost everything before your post) I think
I might focus on how people treat cutters. Lot's of people mentioned
how their parents would drag them to a psych ward if they found out.
Original oratory is traditionally supposed to be about a persuasive
topic. Since there is a lot of different opinions on how cutting
should be dealt with as far the parents' side of things, I thought it
would be a great topic to choose. Even better that I've been a cutter
myself since I know what it's like. A good way to share about my life
and maybe even make a difference in the audiences' life (provided I go
to conference districts and state). So if you have any helpful insight
as to what I could talk about as far as parents finding out and their
reactions that would be great. My parents still don't know anything
about my cutting. I don't plan on telling any time soon. I don't think
they would understand but I don't think they would drag me to a psych
ward either. I have a fairly good home-life I guess. I have my bouts
with my dad, rarely any with my mother. I still don't want my mom
knowing though. Not only would it hurt her, she wouldn't know what to
do. Marissa bought a book to read to get advice on helping me. it's by
Steven Levenkron called Cutting: Understanding and Overcoming
Self-Mutilation. Neither need go to an extent to help me very much.
Marissa just being there for me is enough. My mom doesn't need to
worry about me.
Well I hope you've enjoyed my tantalizingly long email. :) I hope to
hear from you soon!
Bryan
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my story
1 year () (Permalink)here's mine I wasnt raised by mom and lived with my aunt for most of my life. as I got older thing were changing I felt unwanted and unloved at 14 before I started high school I moved with my mom and thing were goo for almost a year. but my sophomore year things changed me and my mom started fighting and I was feeling depressed and unwanted again. then the night before my 16 birthday we were arguing and she said to me she never wanted me just my siblings and that was it for me I thought I tried to hurt my self by drinking lots of pills but nothing happened to me so I decided to just drink the pain away until I just became numb. I filnaly had moved back to my aunt at 17 right before I turned 18 to finish school but I was always depressed and constantly fighting with her and then I found my self wishing I didn't exist. months went buy where I would just knock my self out with pills but thn it got worse where I started cutting my self my rleft wrist and my shoulders and my leg. this wasn't me I would say and I would continue till I I realize that I had put the word unloved in my leg and it was o deep and the scar didn't fade then I met my best friend and she was always there for me one day she asked me why I would always wear bracelets on my left wrist or always had it covered I said cuz I like them there then when I slept over her house she realized that I wore sweats to bed she loa Ed me shorts cuz it ws hot and that when she saw the word UNLOVED in my leg and was worried we talked all night about it and then she told me that it's not true cuz she loved me and that I was like a sister and that if she lost me it would really scar her fo life so she helped me get help and I made a promise to her that I would work on getting better cuz it was important. I'm 20 now I've been better lil slips here and there but I'm happier and not doing it all the time lat slip up wS 2 months ago but haven't done it since. people think confidind in a friend won't help but it did for me with out her I woulnt be here today feel g stronger than ever
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Erm hi I've been cutting 4
1 year () (Permalink)Erm hi I've been cutting 4 bout 8yrs I'm 22 nw I do it cs even if it's 4 only 5mins I feel no stress...nothin at al,I know that no1 cares bout me so there's not much reason 4 me 2 stop(I've tried) if u have sum1 in ur life that does care then focus on that and maybe that will give u the courage 2 stop...I truly hope so
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Well...
1 year () (Permalink)It's so sad. You know, there are a lot of people out there now that see SI (self injury) as something that would make them cool or fit into a social group. It's really nothing like that...
Here's my story..
Ever since I was just a little girl, I was drawn to the things shown in a darker light. Not necessarily anything evil or demented, but black-theme and quiet corners were just comforting. I developed a lust for pain rather early, around first grade. I would never tell anyone, but I'd lay in bed and twist and pull and shove my teeth into my gum just because I loved the way the sharp pain felt. It made everything seem better. I loved it. I kept a lot to myself at that age since my peers already saw me to be different.
When my baby teeth had all been lost (mind you, it only took about 2-3 years since I was speeding up the process) I didn't inflict pain on myself (For the most part) for the next several years. When I got into middle school, depression creeped back up on me. Knives and safety pins became my toys, and I would slipped up and hurt myself. It was nice to feel something after being in such a numb state for so long. I tried to provide distractions for myself to keep my occupied and my mind off my depression. I went through boyfriends, but I didn't have the heart to be with anyone seriously, because I knew I was using them in a way.
Eventually I upgraded to using pliers for my SI. It was far more painful and satisfying than a keen blade. Either that, or I would take a safety pin and weave it in my skin, close it, and twist it; bitting my lip saying to myself "embrace it, embrace it..". Those are the the only injuries I still have scars from, today, as ninth grader.
Eventually, someone very important came into my life, and through a long story I'm not going to get into, I was able to quit as a year ago. I still get cravings like a mother and smile at any scratch, but it's progress. SI is an addiction that won't just go away. It's just sorta apart of who I am. Though I am no longer an injurer, I can still help with most related situations if anyone needs advice.
Well, that's it, I guess. Sorry to bore you. I just figured that in a troubled state, hearing other's struggles can sometimes help you out with your own. I hope I haven't wasted your time.
-Saralin Serpent.
(Fake name)
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What you say about pulling
7 months () (Permalink)What you say about pulling your teeth out at a early age has just made me realise why i made a conection to self harm rather that drugs or anything else. I also used to force my teeth out because i was addicted to the pain, as soon as i had done one i felt a need to start on another one. Its crazy how id forgotten i use to do that until reading this, i guess my harming didnt just come from no where. Thanks :)
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My story... Maybe it could one day help someone...
1 year () (Permalink)Um, hi everyone... So I see some of you self harm and go through depression and stuff...so I wanted to tell my story, maybe to help others...
I am a 14 year old girl --- From the time I started school, I wasn't really the type of person people wanted to be friends with... It wasn't that bad until I was in year 2, then I just started getting abuse from everyone, I had no friends whatsoever and would despise going to school everyday. Then when I got to year 3 I started getting beaten up by one of the boys, I didn't tell anyone because I was scared it would get worse. But even when I didn't tell anyone it still got worse. He would knock me down and kick me. When I fought back I got sent to the head teacher. It continued all through year 3.
In year 4 I was losing sleep and trying to
make myself sick to avoid bullies. I no longer got beaten up but did get harsh verbal abuse because I was taller and fatter than the other kids. I obviously wasn't at all good looking either. So all of these things made me an easy target. I would never argue back, never do a thing, because I was too scared. The names and teasing continued into year 5.
I wandered around by myself crying and didn't concentrate on my education.
By the time I was in year six I lightly self harmed to take the emotional pain away. I would scratch at my arm with keys,nails, even bit at my arm. I bled sometimes, usually left marks... I was always crying, always angry. I started having suicidal thoughts and wishing every night that I wouldn't wake up in the morning.
My parents constantly worried about my unsocial behaviour and my constant look of poor health. Never did I let them see the scratches, or bruises or marks. If I did it would break me and them.
When I got to secondary school, I didn't talk, didn't say a word. Only when spoken to by a teacher. I thought being in a new school would help me somehow- it didn't. I was ignored for the first 2 or 3 months, then I started getting taunts from the girls in class.
I continued self harming and having suicidal thoughts, just worse this time... A girl in the class noticed and she started talking to me, she tried her best to make me to stop but never forced it upon me.
Around Christmas I was almost certainly going to do it, I had the knife and everything... But something told me that I had something to live for, I don't know what, probably common sence.
The girl in my class would talk to me all the time and checked how I was doing, I understood her reasons, she felt the same sometimes- just she had great friends...
I cut down on my self hatred for a while, I was worried someone would catch on.
I went to a learning mentor (school couinciler) for a while, to talk about the bullying. But I never told them what I was doing. I had tiny scars, just a few. I never cut or scratched deep.
Year 8 seemed the same... I made progress with self confidence etc, but still felt the sting of loneliness, the fact I had no one at lunch or break, never went out on weekends or anything.
Nearer Christmas I started going downhill again. I continued getting worse...
Until about march or April.
A girl started talking to me on Facebook, she was in my year at school and was very kind. (at this time I was at an all time low, so yeah I was desperate.) we talked more and more, when one day a make friend of mine from maths class told me to come to the area where they all hang out, he was friends with the girl on Facebook. I didn't at first but he dragged me.
Talking to my new friend in person was difficult because I wasn't really used to making real conversation.
She seemed to analyse my shyness and behaviour for the following days I was dragged to the place they hung out (east playground.)
After about two weeks she told me things about herself, she trusted me. No one ever trusted me. But she did.
I told he about my life aswell. Finally I managed to explain about my self harm and depression.
She understood me better than I understood myself.
She treated me as an equal, maybe even a real good friend. And in a way, she pulled me out if my dark shell and made the real me shine out. A side of me I never knew I had.
I slowley started making more and more friends from the east playground. Until I became a...well really I became popular in the group of friends u had, a main character if you will.
I hadnt completely stopped self harm, because I was scared sooner or later all of my friends would just ditch me...
They never did. The girl who made me who I am today, my bestfriend:) , is to thank for that. She was my savour in a way.
Today i am getting on better than ever. I now smile, laugh and feel good about myself. I've lost weight and convinced myself I'm not the WORST looking person out there. I haven't self harmed in almost 3 months now, that's good for me.
The point of my post is not to say how bad I was, or how good I am
Now. I'm here to say that even at your worst, when you think it's time to just give up on all life. When you want to end it- listen to that little bit of common sence that tells you it will get better, that there IS hope. If I hadn't I'd be rotting in the ground right now.
Just think- when you feel you need to cut yourself...or worse, just look for the light.
This comment is not to offend or influence. I just thought sharing a personal experience could help some people some how. X
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My Experiences
1 year () (Permalink)My parents divorced when I was eight. My father got a new family and forgot me. Mom screamed at me even more than usual. I guess I didn't make it any easier on her, because I am a compulsive liar. I got in fights at school a lot. I was the bullied badass of the elementary school. Well, we moved almost every year. I started hitting myself when I was nine. I liked it more than when Mom would hit me, but my marks bruised more than Mom's did. I got mad one day and ran to my room. I was probably twelve. I took a pocket knife and ran it across my wrist. I didn't cut deep, but I was fascinated by the blood. I made three scratches on my wrist and one deep one on my upper arm. After that, I stopped for awhile. I still would pinch myself until I bruised, or hit myself. I would pull my hair hard when I was frustrated. Lately, I have cut myself a whole lot more. My legs look horrible from scrathes, scars, and burns. My arms aren't as bad, since I limit the damage there, because my uniform at school has short sleeves. My thing is, I don't cry tears. I cut myself and cry blood. I like the look of the scars. I don't regret what I do, but I know I should stop. I don't think I can though. I feel a need to cut myself...........
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Cut.
1 year () (Permalink)I understand. Cutting, it's so addicting. I'm in 8th grade, and I had over 40 cuts in a few days. Deep cuts. But, I know, the scars look good right now. Make you look tough, right? I have them too, and tomorrow I have to go see a therapist, who will probably refer my to a psychologist who will then proceed to medicate me. And believe me, drugs aren't fun when you want to do something besides sleep all day or sit down. So just think of that- it might dope you up so much you'll say things like "Oh look at the purple kitten in the pothole!" at random moments. Well, it won't be that severe, but still.
I know what it's like to be numb, not able to cry. I don't know if you're suicidal, but I was so I can relate. We cut ourselves to relieve pain. But it doesn't really take away pain. I mean, when you're angry, sure you cut yourself and you're not angry anymore, just in pain. But where do you think everything goes? Just sits there and becomes worse, even if you don't think so.
I know that need, that feeling you get. Just, it's like you have to do it. You just have to get something and cut yourself. It's an addiction. People tell themselves this is something that they have control over in their life, but the truth is it's not. It's so dangerous. What if you accidentally cut too deep? Imagine how horrible it would be to die from bleeding to death from your wrist. One of the scariest deaths ever. Your blood just gushing all over your arm. I know it's disgusting but that's really what happens.
I don't know if you have friends, or family, or anything good in life. If not, I'm sorry. But what I do when I want to cut is, I think of the one good thing in my life. My little sister. She's eight. She found out I cut myself. And she wants to be just like me, so what kind of sister would I be if I kept it up, knowing she'd try it? Just try to think of everything you could lose from cutting- isn't better to tell someone? Anyone? You could try.
"I tried to kill the pain
But only bled more.
So much more." - "Tourniquet" By Evanescene You should check that song out. Evanescene is a great band. If you have questions or anything, I have a twitter: Twitter.com/BigTimeRushed
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Oh. My. Gosh.
1 year () (Permalink)Okay, one: you're so young to be so smart about life. When I was in eigth grade, I never had thoughts quite that deep. I'm in 10th grade now, and I have quite a lot more of these kind of thoughts now. =P I was a cutter, now I'm doing so amazing, I locked it all up, I confessed to my friends, and it's been officially 2 weeks today. XDDD Wow, that went fast >.< I just realized that it's been 14 days...it's kinda crazy to think how fast it went, but there you go. ;P
I hope that you are able to stay strong, and keep focusing on what's important to you: in your case your little sister. It's a big responsibility to have someone look up to you like that, but I promise you, nothing is more rewarding. =) I think it's awesome that you have a little sister who looks up to you so much, and I wish you luck. =) <3
Oh, and two...Evanescence IS amazing. XP That's one of my favorite songs by them, but "Missing" and "Bring me to Life" are amazing too. <3 XD
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It can never be that bad..
1 year () (Permalink)So, as I'm writing this I'm very depressed.. And I don't really know why.. I have no logical reason to be depressed, all I know is that I am.. I want to cut myself, or to commit suicide.. But I know it'll never help, because it's just a distraction..
I know a lot of people who have cut themselves, when I asked them why they did it they just said that it helped, or it felt good.. But when I experimented, it didn't help.. It created issues of it's own, although it did feel good to let go..
My life of cutting started when I was 11.. Life was bad, school was hell.. I got suspended for something stupid, and didn't want to show my face.. Then I was crying.. I had a knife, but I didn't know what to do.. Without knowing why I was doing it, I cut myself.. I cut myself a lot.. My excuse was "Some wooden logs fell on me, and I had to pull my arm free." But even if the story was true, it wouldn't account for all the damage..
Now I'm 14, turning 15 in November.. Last year I met a girl on a trip to Toronto for geography.. She cut herself, and she fell in love with me.. I didn't love her back.. And I lead her on, although
I really didn't mean to do that..
Anyways, she cut herself over me.. A lot.. I had stopped cutting since when I was 11, and hadn't cut in 3 years at that point, and then this amazing girl comes into my life, and cuts herself over me.. She's my girlfriend now.. I love her..
But when things went downhill for me, I started cutting again.. And I couldn't get out.. It's addicting and I needed help, which I knew I'd never get.. I'd be disowned by my family of teachers before they'd admit they couldn't stop me and I wasn't just like them.. My girlfriend and I started cutting frequently.. Now I haven't cut for about 3 months, and with her, 2. But now she thinks about suicide..
And now I think about suicide..
I haven't tried suicide where I expected it to work.. I've attempted to cut a vein, but that's harder to do then it sounds when you have a dull blade..
But I believe suicide's wrong.. It's a permanent problem and not a way out.. There's always a way to fix it.. And there's always someone who will help..
Even me!
Although I won't give you any information to reach me, which I suppose would be useful if you need help..
But really, if you need help.. If you're willing to get it.. Just go to the hospital.. Talk to your non-emo friends who would help..
Do yourself a big big big big big big BIG favour..
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Here we go.....
1 year () (Permalink)I have self harmed for over half of my life, I want to die, I have attempted suicide many times, they keep bringing me back.
I think that I maybe invincible.
I have discovered a new longing within myself, I want to hurt others, badly. I crave to see the pain I have suffered played out in anothers face.
The voices follow me at night, I can't breathe.
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Please, Please, Please talk
1 year () (Permalink)Please, Please, Please talk to someone. I know it sounds scary but they can actually really help. I think you might be schizophrenic which could be causing those feelings of wanting to hurt yourself and others. There are so many resources out there for you. I can't promise you that life becomes perfect but I can promise that it gets better. Trust me. I know from experience.
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Wow...
1 year () (Permalink)I saw Fiona Apple in concert with Coldplay when she opened for them... If Id of known this then... I think I would have liked her more. I know I have the dept of a spoon
Don't Panic
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