self-mutilation

Louder Than Words: Marni

admin — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 01:00:00 +0000

Louder Than Words is a series aimed at teenagers about teenage experiences. Atypically, the volumes are also written by teenagers. It may seem bizarre to ask teenagers to write memoirs—as Marni says, her siblings laughed—but Louder Than Words is dedicated to “reinforce[ing] the message that the experiences of teenagers and their perceptions and beliefs regarding [their] experiences have validity.”

Marni Bates comes from a dysfunctional home. Her parents are estranged long before they divorced, and her sister is her rival. Young Marni wants to be loved, so she plays into the manipulative games her father contrives. The shocking realization that her father sees her as a tool, rather than a daughter to love, is the first of many sledgehammers to Marni's self-esteem.

Trichotillomania is a stress-related disorder. People pull their hair out as a means of coping, not unlike cutting or other forms of self-mutilation. Marni begins to pull at her eyebrows, taunted about her unibrow, a term she doesn’t even understand. Soon she is tugging out her eyelashes, her bangs, and the hair behind her ears. She knows she’s gone too far, but she can’t stop herself. Still, she hides the results of her pulling well, giving the disorder free reign over her mind and body.

Marni is a self-possessed young woman. Nineteen at the time of her writing, she has come to a mature understanding of herself and the other people in her life. Teenagers often are not given credit for having this kind of self-awareness, and many times they’re not given an opportunity to prove they have it.

There are a few points in Marni's story that seem slightly bent by her lingering emotion. For instance, her descriptions of her father are not at all kind—but this is to be expected of someone who is still living this period of her life. Marni continues to battle her disorder, and it is because of this that the book does not really have a proper ending. The story stops, but is not over.

Marni does not make false promises or pretend she has reached a happily ever after. This may be one of the best messages for teens: acknowledging that life is not a series of neatly packaged stories with beginnings, middles, and ends.

I blazed through this small book in a matter of hours. The writing is human, humbling, and honest. The Louder Than Words could do a lot of good in high school health classes. I know I would have been happy to read it.

Written by: Richenda Gould, December 21st 2009

Ballads of Suburbia

admin — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 17:03:00 +0000

By Stephanie Kuehnert

MTV Books

It’s strange to find yourself feeling nostalgic about a time that you absolutely hated. I’m obviously not alone when I say that middle and high school weren’t the best times of my life; while I had friends and family that I cared about a lot and vice versa, everything else often seemed like a total mess. Looking back on it with a few years distance, I can say that I blew things out of proportion, overreacted, was irrational in my words and decisions. In short, I was your stereotypical teenage girl.

Stephanie Kuehnert’s second novel, Ballads of Suburbia, brought me right back to those heady, mid-90s days of endless troubles and tears. Kara has left her Illinois home for college in California, and comes back in Christmas 1999, wary about facing her demons, but knowing she has to. We get Kara’s story—one of teenage love, drugs, and intense pain—through flashbacks, as she remembers her past while visiting for the first time. There are some absolutely heartbreaking scenes, as Kara and her friends deal with hard drug use, depressive and suicidal thoughts, and domestic abuse: things we know teenagers deal with, but is rarely written as bluntly as in Kuehnert’s book.

The device that ties the book together is the titular collection of ballads (in the traditional sense, Kara is sure to assert, of a story-song) that Kara and her friends put together to exorcise their demons. Every main character in the novel writes their ballad, the story of something in their lives that made them who they are, for better or for worse, in a notebook. That Kara eventually is able to take the stories and make something wonderful out of them is a testament to the strength of the character, and the redemptive power of writing itself.

Kuehnert’s characters reside in Oak Park, a northern Chicago suburb, and an area that is familiar to Kuehnert, as she lives in a Chicago suburb and received her MFA from Columbia College. The familiarity and seemingly love/hate relationship with the area are obvious in the novel, as the setting is wonderfully described, from the park where Kara and her friends go to smoke and skate, to grungy basement parties, to the unbearable places Kara and her friends call home. The mid-90s setting and allusions to grunge and punk music endeared themselves to me, and produced that intense sense of nostalgia, especially when Kuehnert describes driving around with the music as loud as possible, screaming along to your favorite songs.

Although I never had quite the amount of trouble that Kara and her friends did, there is still a thread that binds us together, and made me appreciate the novel as both a reminder and a cautionary tale. Please note: the novel features somewhat graphic descriptions of drug use and self-mutilation that some might find triggering.

Written by: Dana Reinoos, December 13th 2009

Creating Myself: How I Learned That Beauty Comes in All Shapes, Sizes, and Packages, Including Me

admin — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 17:04:00 +0000

By Mia Tyler

Atria Books

Imagine growing up with these parents: Steven Tyler from Aerosmith and Cyrinda Foxe, a popular actress and model from the 1970s. At first glance, it might seem luxurious, glamorous, exciting, and fun to be part of this family, but Mia Tyler tells the real story of her experiences with her rock 'n roll mom and dad in Creating Myself.

From the first lines of the book, which reveal Tyler's intention to commit suicide in 2001, readers will find riveting details, shocking stories, and jaw-dropping secrets. For example, as an eight-year-old, Tyler had to pour her mother's vial of cocaine into the toilet, and later in life she struggled with her own drug addictions and self-mutilation.

But this book is much more than an exposé of a celebrity family; it is Mia's story of coping, growing, forgiving, moving on, and finding herself amidst the chaos and confusion of a rollercoaster home life. Stories and memories are shared, along with descriptions of birthdays, romances, family tension, crazy social sprees, and her work as a plus-size model. Tyler recounts her trials with using men, drugs, and food, and working to overcome these addictions. She even provides a detailed examination of her own sanity at different points in her life, and how her psychological well-being impacted her choices and the way she encountered the world.

Tyler's candid stories and honest self-evaluations reflect a woman who has been through a lot, has taken a good hard look at herself and the world around her, and has chosen to take the best approach possible by forgiving herself and her family, moving on, and deciding to take care of herself. She comes out stronger in the end, with seemingly endless love and wisdom to share.

Creating Myself will hit home with all readers, even those who don't share Tyler's celebrity status or her extreme past. Those who choose this book will find out that it is possible to take on—and overcome—all that the world has in store for us.

Written by: Amanda Moss, August 30th 2009

Cutting: Understanding and Overcoming Self-Mutilation

admin — Wed, 22 Nov 2006 18:43:00 +0000

By Steven Levenkron

WW Norton

Cutting isn’t just about cutting. It’s about burning, fainting, fingernail scratches, hospital visits, and apparent suicide attempts. It’s about what the author calls self-mutilation (though many sufferers prefer the term "self-injury" as "mutilation" implies that the goal is the scar, which isn’t always the case). These girls (and they are mostly girls) act out their anger or sadness on their own skin, inflicting pain but not attempting suicide. The author has worked with girls and boys who hurt themselves for years as a therapist, and he has written this book for both therapists and loved ones. He understands why some people choose to hurt themselves, something that is often a repulsive mystery to others. Self-mutilation, he says, is a "barrier" that keeps us from seeing someone in honest psychological pain. Self-mutilators, who are predominantly, but not exclusively, adolescent girls, have no way to express their anger or pain, whether because of socially imposed norms or because they simple haven’t learned the words. Anger is turned inward and expressed on the self. The girls feel alone, with no one to trust. Often physically or verbally abused, the girls have severe attachment disorders. The book is never too technical for the lay reader, though therapists can learn from it as well. Full of dialogue from his own practice, Levenkron really gets into the minds of these girls and boys. While he discusses treatment, however, he also argues for the recognition of self-mutilation as a psychological disorder in its own right, not merely as a symptom of disorders like borderline personality disorder or depression with anxiety. Though self-mutilation can stem from these, he argues, it can manifest itself without. Just as he argued for anorexia nervosa to be recognized as a disorder, so he argues for self-mutilation. This is an excellent book on a little-understood phenomenon.

Written by: Janine Peterson Wonnacott, November 22nd 2006