The most recommended books about self-harm

Not many novellas punch their weight this hard as Matthew R. Davis’ The Dark Matter of Natasha. Addressing almost with levity matters of suicide, this tiny book is entrapping with the disquieting dread yet morbid curiosity it rouses in you. It’s an intelligent story oozing with the sexual urgency of young adulthood. An orgasmic psychological thriller amalgamated with deep haunting, The Dark Matter of Natasha is a compelling conversation on the topic of teen self-harm. Macabre, intimate and beautiful all at once. 

I am a huge fan of Yoru Sumino’s books, and her sweet MG/YA novel showcases what a brilliant writer she is.

The story follows Nanoka, a grade-schooler faced with a tough question for her school assignment—what does ‘happiness’ mean to her? Throughout the story she makes friends with a troubled girl who engages in self-harm, a woman ostracized by society, and an old woman looking to live out her years in peace.

The story handles tough subjects with a beautiful gentleness and has an almost Studio Ghibli peacefulness to it. It’s a wonderful story of family, life, and what happiness really means.

I loved this book as it triggered memories for me from my time working as a prison psychiatrist in HMP Cornton Vale, Scotland's female prison.

The scenarios and emotions evoked were very relatable and highlighted the complexities involved in dealing with a population of women with complex trauma histories, who may often be both victims and perpetrators of crime.

The mix of relationship difficulties, mental health problems, personalities, substance misuse, self-harming, and humour is both interesting and sadly very familiar. This book helps to raise awareness.

Without my glasses, I’m functionally blind. Without his hearing aids, my husband struggles to hear. We shouldn’t work as a couple. Or are our limitations our strengths?

In Kaye’s book, Patrick Stanford is considered by his rotating crew of housecleaners to be an unreasonable client. Until Jake Manning is hired, no one realizes that Patrick as a blind man needs his house to be kept in strict order or he harms himself just walking from room to room.

Although Patrick has a PhD while Jake has barely a high school diploma, what matters is how they understand each other’s needs and work to answer them.

(An aside: Besides, how could I pass up a book in which Pat (my name) and Jake (my husband’s name) fall in love? I couldn’t!)

Willow is such an important novel for any teen who has gone through a traumatic event.

Willow, a 17-year-old girl is dealing with grief over the death of her parents and the fact that she was driving the car that killed them. She’s had to leave behind her old home, friends, and school. But Willow has found a way to survive, to numb the new reality of her life, she is secretly cutting herself.

For every teen that has either cut themselves, drank to numb the pain, starved themselves, or done any sort of self-harm in order to protect themselves from their inward pain, this book is for you. Not only is this story about grief and guilt, but it is also about love and never giving up.

The memoir of world-renowned psychologist Marsha Linehan, who happens to be someone I greatly admire for creating the treatment that I use: Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT).  This book relays Linehan’s struggles as a teen and adult with her own mental health condition, including self-harming behaviors and thoughts of suicide, and how her experience contributed to her creation of a therapy that has likely saved millions of lives.

The Call of Cassandra Rose is also about childhood trauma and healing from it. I could not read this book fast enough. I was desperate to know what happened. Sophia Spiers is such a brilliant writer. This book is harrowing in places and the character can be unlikeable, just like mine. But really, they are just being human. Human beings are messy and complicated and nothing is harder than family. 

This book had me enraged at how unfair Annabelle is treated and I really rooted for her. Just as I hope people root for Natalie, even though she can be erratic and stubborn as hell. Annabelle is struggling with motherhood and is in a terrible marriage. She hopes her hypnotist can fix her, but can she? Is life really that simple?

It is rare to find the view of a birth father in a story or online, so I was keen to read this to help widen my perspectives. This insightful, reflective autobiography helped me to imagine how my son’s birth father may be affected by the adoption. Andrew shares how the loss of his son to adoption has affected so many of his choices throughout the rest of his life. I read this around the time that I was due to write a contact letter to my son’s birth parents, and I feel that it helped me to write something that I hope his birth parents will find supportive and reassuring, rather than a superficial update to “tick the box.”

Sadly, when asked about the artist, most people describe Vincent as the man who chopped off his own ear. I hate that they do.

This book though is neither gratuitous nor indulgent. Instead, it offers a detailed, well-researched, and intelligent response to the question - Why did Van Gogh cut off his ear? There has been much speculation about the events that led to Vincent delivering his ear to a maid at a brothel in Arles.

This book is essential reading for any who wishes to open conversations about Vincent’s motivations and the happenings that led to that gruesome act on a specific day in December.

This is not your average haunted house story––not by a long shot.

This abandoned house is alive and salivates, built with wood, bricks, hatred, and soaked in murder throughout the ages. Three women went in, but only two returned, both remembering a completely different set of details of victimization by the other. Three years later, the house calls them back to finish what it started.

Rumfitt’s writing style at times reads like a fever dream, she even describes one event simultaneously from two different perceptions. Its subject matter is not for everyone; it highlights the darkest parts of fascist-born damage, PTSD, self-harm, and internalized shame. It’s dirty, it’s gory, and it’s fantastic.