An Open Dialogue about Self-Injury

The first time I drew my own blood, I was fifteen. It was a misguided, half-hearted attempt to find peace, but my “one time only” impulse quickly spiraled out of control. Within a few months, I was cutting on a daily basis. Studies estimate around 1 in 4 teenagers engage in non-suicidal self-injury, or NSSI, and I became part of the statistic.

In spite of its prevalence, I didn’t know anyone else struggling with self-injury. My high school had occasional assemblies about drug use and safe sex and suicide, but there was never a single mention of the ones hiding cuts under long sleeves and smiles. I assumed that since no one was talking about it, I was the only person dealing with it. It was my hidden shame, and I thought I was alone.

Today, mental health services are more easily accessible than they were a decade ago, and conversations surrounding mental health are much more commonplace. In spite of this, self-injury remains particularly misunderstood and taboo.

Honestly, I understand why. It’s difficult to comprehend something no one is talking about, especially if you have no firsthand experience with the issue. It’s also incredibly hard to be the one to stand up and declare you’ve struggled with something so vulnerable and personal, knowing that you’re opening yourself up to the criticism that comes with revealing something that many find unfathomable.

The whole thing is cyclical, really. No one talks about it, so no one understands, so people feel alone, so they don’t talk about it. It’s time to end the cycle.

For years, I feared that if my self-injury was discovered I would become a caricature of myself, boiled down to my habitually bad decision. That fear silenced me and kept me from seeking help until well into adulthood. Even after seeking help, my struggle didn’t end overnight. If I’m being honest, I’m still occasionally part of the 1-4% of adults in the United States that deals with NSSI. I know now, though, that I’m more than my worst moments. So are you.

While this may feel like a topic that doesn’t impact you, that’s an illusion. There are hundreds of thousands of people in the United States alone who struggle with self-injury. Statistically, it’s highly likely you know someone who does.

We need to be willing to address and acknowledge self-injury in the same way we’re willing to address suicide, addiction, depression, and anxiety. Until we do, the environment of secrecy in which the shame of self-injury thrives will continue to flourish.

I’m here, scars and all, ready to have an open dialogue. My hope is that you’ll join me in the conversation.