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. 

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. 

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.

This gripping and heartbreaking YA novel about Lily and her older, bipolar sister, Alice, has stayed with me. I found the plot and characters so realistic and absorbing that I forgot I was reading fiction. 

This book is an intense read, but set in a world I became thoroughly immersed in. I connected with Lily’s compulsion to be the perfect daughter and straight-A student. I cried for her having to swallow her emotions and words, while internally struggling with her own demons.

It’s a must-read for anyone who has survived their teenage years. It’s considered, wholehearted, and delivers a convincing portrayal of sisterly bonds, mental health issues, and the people who are courageous enough to confront them. I’m teary now just thinking about it.

Kisscut is the second book in Karen Slaughter’s Grant County series.

Slaughter’s books are dark, and this one is no exception. The darkness is magnified because I think her heroine, Dr. Sarah Linton, is an innocent at heart.

Even though Sarah, a pediatrician, doubles as the Grant County coroner, she tends to see the best in people until the worst appears before her in a way she can’t ignore.

After her ex-husband commits a necessary but appalling act, Sarah discovers a threat to the community’s children which she’s compelled to follow until its unspeakable end is revealed.

The depravity she uncovered haunted me long after I finished the book.

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.”

This book is so ambitious! The author tackles emotional abuse, trauma, grief, survivor’s guilt, self-harm, complicated family relationships, and more without anything feeling glossed over. Main character Daya is prickly and hostile and can be difficult to root for at times, but her portrayal feels spot-on given all she has endured in her life. I’ve always been fascinated by roller derby and it’s brilliant the way the author built her plot around the sport so it is truly integral to Daya’s character’s growth and healing.

I bought this book several years ago, but it was 700 pages long, so it stayed on my shelf until I got tickets for the play in London and decided to read the book first. I was spellbound. The book is disturbing (child abuse, self-harm, suicide attempts) but superbly written.

The author's style reminds me of Donna Tartt. Four young American men of different ethnicities, backgrounds, and sexual orientations meet at high school. The novel starts as a coming-of-age story but follows the characters into middle age and beyond. The author brings New York vibrantly to life. Readers get insights into their friendship and how unintended cruelty almost breaks their bond. All four men struggle with burdens from childhood, but the central character, Jude, who was abandoned as a baby and brought up by monks, has suffered unspeakable horrors.

The darkness is only hinted at in the opening chapters, giving… show more.

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.

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?