Stories About Self Harm Novels & Stories

The children noticed subtle changes: a softer tone here, a brief moment of laughter there, the beginnings of apologies and acknowledgment of harm. Mathapelo began writing in her journal, a practice she had abandoned long ago. Each entry became a mirror, reflecting her fears, regrets, and small victories. She documented her interactions with her children, her attempts at patience, and her moments of relapse. Slowly, the writing became a lifeline, a bridge between self-destruction and conscious effort.

And then when I would look back at my bruises, I would hate myself even more. Going back to school each day, people used to think I was a freak. I was the girl who had bruises and scars. Who kept quiet. Didn't talk to anyone. Feared everyone. That's when I started self harm. Sometimes at lunch. Sometimes at night. Those razors were my only friends. I might sound weak. Or somebody else in my place wouldn't have done that. But I wasn't like others. I knew this all would break me one day. I wasn't strong. How could you be?

My fingerprint was all over it. "Do what you must. I give you full permission to do what you have to do." Xavier remained rooted by my side of the bed as Sean exited out of my hospital room. "Doctor what causes one to self harm or cause undue bodily injury to themselves." Sean asked the doctor who happily obliged to answering them. "Well, self inflicted injuries could be caused due to post traumatic stress disorder, depression and subdued anger but there ar——" I did not need to be told that Xavier had silenced the doctor from speaking any further.

I answer, telling him half the truth. I never told anyone this apart from an old worker, Jenette. I would hurt myself. I don't know why but I did. Knowing that Vicktor would hurt me I felt so unworthy as if I deserved to feel the pain so I would do it to myself. The first time I did was the third time Vicktor raised his hands on me. I felt everything and nothing at the same time. I remember the day as if it was yesterday. A younger me rushed to the bathroom, searching the cabinets until she found a needle. Confused and hurt to why she has the sudden thought to hurt herself, convincing herself that she deserves it. That she deserves the pain. Pricking the sharp needle into her fingertips watc

They provided a safe space for people to share their experiences, fears, and hopes, fostering an environment of mutual respect and understanding. As they delved deeper into their mission, they discovered the power of storytelling. They found that sharing personal experiences had a profound impact, humanizing mental health issues and shattering the stigma surrounding them. They encouraged others to share their stories, believing that each narrative could inspire empathy, create connections, and spark meaningful conversations.

He gave me a cocky grin and walked out. Bastard. --- *Later that evening* "Elaina." "Elaina." "Elaina, can you hear me?" I slowly opened my eyes to see Adrian staring down at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he screamed, and I just lay there looking at him, numb. It had been exactly six months since I'd been free from self-harm. Six months of drowning my pain in books and movies. Until this night… I took a glance at myself one last time as I lay sprawled up on the bathroom floor, bleeding.

It was no wonder Nicole chose to wear long-sleeved outfits at work—she'd wanted to hide those scars. People who'd been harming themselves for long periods of time tended to do so because of family problems. With that thought in mind, Yvonne decided to speak in a casual tone. "Tell me more about your family."

“I told you, I won’t force you.” “But we must, I mean we can’t fake the-” “We’ll mark each other. It'll be enough to sustain our story. I know how you feel about it, but the mark will fade away eventually. We'll renew it once in a while.” By the end of this talk, he was only in his underwear. A small whimper escaped my mouth causing me to slap a hand over it. His laugh filled the room. Despite the turmoil of emotions that were ravaging my mind, I couldn’t deny the fact that his body was nothing less than perfect.

Over cups of coffee and plates of decadent pastries, they unraveled the self-deprecating jokes that shielded their hearts. In their shared vulnerability, they found solace, understanding, and an unexpected bond that transcended their self-doubt. Through late-night conversations and quirky escapades, Lily and Emily learned to navigate the complexities of their insecurities together, slowly unraveling the layers of self-hate and replacing them with self-acceptance.

I owed you, now I don't. Loria laughs then says "What's happening?" " Dr. Markus tells her "First, you tried to kill yourself by telling the officials you're mixed, then you literally directly tried when it didn't work obviously." Loria told Dr. Markus "I never tried to kill myself, I jumped in the lake or whatever, pond? River? Who knows, then..." Referencing to the self-harm, "...It was an accident." Dr. Markus feels bad for her and says "Okay."