Cutting the Stigma From Self-harm

At one point during Wendy Schneider’s film Cut, a teenager relates her experience as a girl who got straight A’s and didn’t do drugs who nevertheless participated in what many would consider to be disturbing behavior. She is, as the title might suggest, a cutter, but does it where “no one can see”. Her experience highlights two of the most important misconceptions about self-harm: that it is a prevalent but often unacknowledged problem, and that the stereotypical image of a person who self-harms is someone who is outwardly troubled and unsuccessful.

One percent of the population reportedly has engaged in self-harm, a number that may only seem insignificant. But in a recent study conducted at Princeton and Cornell, it was revealed that 17 percent of the students at both schools had purposefully harmed themselves at one point and a staggering 70 percent of those who had done it once had participated in self-harm on multiple occasions. Self-harm provides easy stress relief; extreme physical pain causes the release of adrenaline and endorphins, which in turn lead to elation and eventual calm. It is not impossible to imagine why such behavior might be appealing to high school and college students struggling with the pains of growing up and the pressures of success.

But unfortunately, many of these students do not seek help due to the stigmas associated with self-harm. To cut or burn oneself is considered disgusting and terrifying, and coming forward labels one profoundly disturbed. High schools often put self-harmers on suicide watch, and students are treated as fragile time bombs. In reality, self-harm is often an indication that someone is not suicidal and is more a means of survival, reducing the overwhelming emotion or communicating inexpressible pain. But despite the extreme situations which may drive one to self-harm, self-harmers rarely view it as an act of great proportions. It becomes habitual, just another activity during the day.

To imagine self-harm as akin to smoking a cigarette or eating a pint of ice cream makes it no less disturbing. But because the behavior often becomes habitual, it is even more difficult to face the stigmas that suggest that there is something horribly wrong with something that may feel perfectly natural. Many self-harmers also fear that by coming forward they will be diagnosed, put on medication, and become a part of the clinical system. While self-harm often correlates with specific mental illness and prior sexual, emotional, or physical abuse, the Princeton study found many students who engaged in self-harm who might be considered normal. When approaching self-harm, it must not be viewed as a by-product of abnormal psychology, but as a poor coping mechanism. But it must also be taken seriously, and the underlying issues which lead one to self-harm must be addressed with compassion.

Education and open discourse are paramount to creating a culture in which self-harmers can feel comfortable coming forward in order to find better, healthier coping strategies. There is very little information available on the subject of self-harm, and many parents and friends of self-harmers express frustration at the lack of resources available to them. To watch someone participate in self-harm is nearly unbearable. In some cases, the loved ones of self-harmers have admitted that they have participated in self-injurious acts in order to better understand what it feels like. Films like Cut are important because they lift the veil surrounding self-harm and, through the experiences of a few individuals, can craft a greater understanding of the causes of and aids to ending practices of self-abuse.

Cut is powerful and effective because there are no black screens. Rather than a collection of stories and facts, it is made up of faces and scars. It reveals the diverse array of individuals who participate in acts of self-harm. It empowers self-harmers to come forward and speak without fear and encourages friends and family to address the issue openly and without judgment.

If the Cornell and Princeton statistics can apply to Columbia as well, then nearly every student on campus has come in contact with someone who has or continues to self-harm. It is not a phase or a trend and will continue to be an urge and a struggle for anyone who has made it a habit—even when it has supposedly passed. Much of the audience at Cut tonight will be students who view self-harm as a deeply personal issue.

But the film is less effective if it only reaches a select and already invested group. In order to properly create a campus culture in which it is possible to openly discuss and seek help for self-harm, then students and faculty who believe themselves to be unconnected to it must also make an appearance and engage.

Cut is showing tonight at 7 p.m. in Lehman auditorium at Barnard College. The author, the editorial page editor, is a Columbia College junior majoring in women’s and gender studies.