The Aesthetics of Self-Harm

The Visual Rhetoric of Online Self-Harm Communities

Zoe Alderton

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• Topic: Psychology
• eBook ISBN:
  9781317269274
• Subtopic: Mental Health in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

The Aesthetics of Self-Harm presents a new approach to understanding parasuicidal behaviour, based upon an examination of online communities that promote performances of self-harm in the pursuit of an idealised beauty. The book considers how online communities provide a significant level of support for self-harmers and focuses on relevant case studies to establish a new model for the comprehension of the online supportive community.

To do so, Alderton explores discussions of self-harm and disordered eating on social networks. She examines aesthetic trends that contextualise harmful behavior and help people to perform feelings of sadness and vulnerability online. Alderton argues that the traditional understanding of self-violence through medical discourse is important, but that it misses vital elements of human group activity and the motivating forces of visual imagery.

Covering psychiatry and psychology, rhetoric and sociology, this book provides essential reading for psychologists, sociologists and anthropologists exploring group dynamics and ritual, and rhetoricians who are concerned with the communicative powers of images. It should also be of great interest to medical professionals dealing with self-harming patients.

Chapter 1

Self-harm on social networks

Understanding online eating disorder and self-harm communities

We use the internet to share stories about ourselves, our desires, and who we want to be. For some people, these stories and desires are centred on a bleeding body, a thin body, or a body that is somehow changed to demonstrate how we feel or what we want from life. The author of Dehungerize, a personal weight-loss blog, shared this vision with her followers, titled ‘Skinny Aesthetic’:

Imagine yourself lounging on the couch at your boyfriend’s parent’s house on NYE… . Everything about you is dainty from your thin ankles up to your thin wrists. Your boyfriend’s sister glares at you jealously from across the room, eyes like wildfire. All you feel is emptiness and pure bliss.

(Dehungerize 2016)

Over a one-day period, this aesthetic vignette was shared and favourited 135 times. It tells a story of the deep satisfaction that one can gain from starvation. A starved girl can feel beautiful, dainty, and free of the overwhelming burden of a ‘fat’ body. She can also ‘win’ the patriarchal struggle for dominance amongst her female peers who will be unable to compete with her unearthly svelte figure. Psychologically, a thin body is the key to moksha; it is the release from suffering and the entry point to bliss.

As the internet becomes an essential part of daily life, it is imperative that we learn how to deal with this kind of problematic content in a sensible and productive manner. Developing a functional response will take new knowledge and approaches, some of which are provided in this book. We have known for some time that modern media (film, television, etc.) is able to have an impact on suicidal and self-harm behaviour, with particular texts leading to the formation of clusters or contagions. At the turn of the century, Pirkis and Blood raised a concern that very little had been done to study the role that the internet might play in encouraging this sort of harmful behaviour (2001, p. 167). Sixteen years later, this concern has been addressed to some degree. We know that the internet is a potential danger zone, and many websites (especially social media websites) are developing ways of addressing user-generated content with concerning themes, which run the risk of encouraging others to hurt themselves. Nevertheless, most of the reactions we presently witness are based on a sense of anxiety and are overshadowed by a paternalistic approach to protecting the vulnerable via complete censorship. They also hinge on a misunderstanding of the way relationships and communication work online.

Where did online self-harm communities come from?

The internet did not invent depressed teenagers. Rather, it brought them together. An older self-harmer writes, “In my day we did not run in packs. We sniffed the air when we spotted another one and eyed each other warily, like tigers breaching each other’s territory” (Zimmerman 2014). Before the rise of online self-harm groups, those who hurt themselves on purpose were often isolated loners who had no one to share deviance with or with whom they could discuss deviant thoughts in an empathetic way. They were also more likely to define themselves – via a medicalised understanding of self-harm – as mentally ill, suicidal, or dangerous. They tended to think of actions like cutting as weird, abnormal, and something that should be concealed from others – even if they had already decided that it was personally beneficial and helped them to function better in society (Adler and Adler 2011, pp. 94–96). Although some self-harmers decided to stay isolated and reject emerging online communities, the rise of home internet allowed many loners to find and connect with other sufferers (2011, p. 108). They were no longer alone.

Early websites included general information about self-harm, often compiled by lay experts. These sites did not engender participation and were designed for people to read and learn from in a more passive manner. They also tended to be from a medical standpoint and highlight the pathological aspects of self-harm, recommending medical assistance. Most websites run by medical or psychiatric associations have this as their heritage. Self-harmers could express themselves via the creation of personal websites where they journaled their feelings and shared art and poetry. Pro-self-harm content also existed in this very early era, with several sites showing graphic images of self-harm and giving rationalisations for why the behaviour was justifiable. Some of the early internet users interviewed by the Adlers even stumbled across proto–social media sites like Usenet – a very early news-sharing group with threads divided by topic, which debuted in 1980. These sites were more interactive than online journals, which did not garner much attention at the time.

Message boards, and later semi-private groups, provided a space where self-harmers could communicate with each other directly and chat as friends (Adler and Adler 2011, pp. 109–112). The Adlers noted several of these communication-based sites emerging during the late 1990s. While some were forums, they were hosted on privately owned and unmoderated websites. Many also hosted image galleries with names like ‘bleed me’ and ‘bioetchings’. They functioned as a place where self-harmers could find support from like-minded individuals for the first time and thus quickly took on a powerfully pro-self-harm philosophy (2011, pp. 44–49). A major website that emerged during this era was psyke.org, launched in 2001, which contained a gallery filled with graphic images of self-harm and text explaining the experiences of the person in each photograph (Duggan et al. 2012, p. 61). The picture gallery is still available and contains a warning that it is not designed to be used as a triggering stimulus and that no one is allowed to behave in a competitive way with other contributors (Warning 2016). Aside from this, the material is free, uncensored, and accessible to all.

Pro-ED sites date their ‘first wave’ to the turn of the century. Many were hosted on early social network sites such as Yahoo! and MSN. This date also coincides with companies like Yahoo! realising that this content was a possible legal liability. In 2001, Yahoo! instigated a significant purge of pro-ED material from its servers. This meant that any obvious communities encouraging eating disorders were deleted. Users labelled the censorship of these sites as efforts by “watchdog nazis” to hamper free speech, with experienced moderators suggesting that pro-ED material be hidden away under subjects like ‘coin collecting’ and that suspicious words be written in l337 cypher. For example, a word such as skinny could be replaced with its l337 version – ‘sk1nny’ (Narscissa 2001a). It is believed that these censorship efforts were a result of two major pressure groups. The National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders, an American advocacy group for diagnosis and recovery, is said to have been involved. So, too, was an episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show featuring an interview with Holly Hoff – director of programmes at the US National Eating Disorders Association. Hoff discussed pro-ED communities, which made their existence known to the average American for the first time (Singler 2011, p. 19).

In the mid-2000s, the Adlers noticed that many previously public message boards were being locked up and were admissible only by formal application in order to evade deletion. They also became fragmented into specialised themes, such as groups for older self-harmers (2011, pp. 44–49). In a 2006 study, most message boards were found to have either a ‘medium’ moderation level, where triggering posts are labelled, or a ‘low’ moderation level, where sensitive material is neither noted nor blocked. Very few show ‘high’ moderation, where problematic material is blocked entirely (Whitlock et al. 2006, p. 410). Message boards have a history of being made and run by self-harmers for the benefit of other self-harmers and thus have always had a very ambivalent message about recovery and a fairly open attitude towards content that is generally classified as deviant (such as images of scars and wounds). Since the purges at the turn of the century, these sites have also developed a strong belief in freedom of speech and the right to express alternative lifestyles without censorship (Singler 2011, p. 20).

Now, the majority of content has shifted to even more dynamic spaces such as Tumblr. The social dimensions of the internet continue to develop, and new generations of self-harm groups continue to grow in step with the latest technologies. My particular focus in this chapter is on communities that are fully immersed in the newer Web 2.0 modality, that is, websites where anyone can create and share content and in which discussions about this content are encouraged. Web 2.0 is a dynamic space where confessions can be made, creative works can be shared, and community can be found.

In more complex spaces for user engagement, such as Tumblr, the original producers of content are able to articulate their ideas and struggles, provide a wealth of content rather than a single image, and, most important, speak back to those who comment on or share their work. Seko and Lewis call this “content-based interaction”, facilitated through functions such as reblogging and liking appealing content (2016, p. 3). Thus, this conversation is lively and connective, often strung together by tags rather than the older and stricter style of groups with single moderators. It can also spiral out of the control of content moderators who might aim to stop the discussion of suicidal ideation or the glamourisation of mental illness. Without this kind of moderation and the careful contextualisation of material pertaining to suicide and self-harm, the site might not be as powerful in terms of encouraging recovery and positivity.

How do online self-harm communities work?

Since the very beginning, individual self-harm communities have had different aims and methods. Some encourage a self-harm lifestyle, others are focused on recovery, and most lie somewhere in between. Nevertheless, there are some functions that most of them share. On the most basic level, these communities form because people who share interests come together. After converging, specific communities develop particular norms that govern behavioural patterns, hierarchies, and shared beliefs or aims. These norms will often shape offline behaviour – even though community members may never meet in person (Whitlock et al. 2009, p. 150). For example, a group of people who all wish to recover from self-harm might find each other through a tag like ‘#recovery tips’. They may then decide that their primary focus is to guide each other and give unconditional support. They might engage in behaviours like covering scars with make-up and might frown on content that could trigger a relapse. In contrast, a very different group of people might gather using a tag like ‘#pro-si’ and form a community dedicated to celebrating and developing self-harm lifestyles. This group might seek out and share triggering content as a way of supporting each other and upholding a group goal. The outcomes might be very different, but the essential processes are the same.

Because groups coalesce around powerful shared interests, social relationships can progress at a rapid speed. Adler and Adler note the immediacy of intimacy in online spaces. Correspondence on the internet can move very quickly, with posters of content receiving a flood of responses over a short period. Because of shared values, there is less pressure to change or censor the language used to discuss socially contentious themes such as self-harm. This gives a sense of honesty that might be missing in many offline relationships where deviant behaviours tend to be censored. Relationships can also be just as quickly abandoned, meaning there is less fear of long-term judgement if things turn sour – unlike discussions with real-life friends and family who are perceived as more judgemental and harder to avoid. Pragmatically speaking, internet relationships are also easier to terminate and escape from than their ‘real-life’ counterparts if they become too stressful or boring (Adler and Adler 2011, pp. 144–145). This lack of face-to-face contact is often seen in positive terms. The downside is that emotive reactions can become confused online. Thus, it is fairly easy for the absence of vocal tone to make people mistake sarcastic jokes for actual cruelty. But it is equally easy for people to feel relieved by a world in which they are spared from negative cues like sneers when discussing sensitive information (Leiter and Dowd 2010, p. 35). Many community members find themselves confessing things to near strangers that they could never say to their closest offline friends.

Nevertheless, the internet is really not so powerfully different from the rest of people’s existences. It is replete with the same stereotypes, privileges, and disadvantages afforded to people in their offline lives. It is not necessarily an escape from one’s class or race or gender. Indeed, it is often a venue in which people can gather to discuss issues they face because of their offline identities like racial stereotyping, disability access, or sexuality. Rather than hiding marginalised identities, the internet is increasingly a place where people emphasise what makes them different so that they can connect with others who can empathise and share a sense of solidarity. As such, the internet can be a space to annunciate new or hidden narratives about the self, identify with different groups, and disclose information that might be private from offline friends and family. It is hard to shake off the kind of identity and social position that we radiate from our typed words and performances, but this is not necessarily an impediment to honest and engaging communication. The internet allows for an appealing flexibility in terms of revealing different aspirations or aspects of the self that may be hidden in offline relationships (Leiter and Dowd 2010, pp. 40–41).

With this in mind, can internet groups actually inspire pathological behaviour? Or can they cause people to act in unpredictable ways? It is unlikely that the internet can create problems out of nowhere, but it can bring together people at risk and allow them to disseminate deviant ideas and behaviour. Whitlock et al. argue that humans can learn from media presented to them. We can develop new behaviours by engaging with sources that normalise novel or unusual activities, and by receiving ‘scripts’ that prime us to act in ways we would not have done otherwise. For example, media messages have been known to make children act out in violent ways, and suggestions of suicide in the press lead to actual increase in suicide figures (2009, p. 143). Nevertheless, before people can receive these scripts, they do need to actively search for problematic content. In the late 2000s, the popular press started to criticise pro-anorexia websites for luring in vulnerable young girls with the promise of friendship. These websites were seen as recruiting grounds for the disease and became a site of moral panic (Boero and Pascoe 2012, p. 28). Yet there is no evidence that people without disordered eating tendencies were ever searching for, or engaging with, these very specific and highly demanding communities. The biggest dangers occur when individuals already have dangerous ideas or unhealthy tendencies and use the internet to seek out others who might empathise.

In my opinion, the most ‘dangerous’ function of intensive online groups – in terms of how likely they are to cause pathological behaviours – is their ability to transmute individual suffering into group suffering. One of Adler and Adler’s self-harm community users explained, “When one of us hurts, we all hurt. If one of us have a good day, we all have a better day” (2011, p. 118). In his favourite group, someone having a good day was seen as positive and to be encouraged, whereas some groups like to cultivate this sense of mass sadness. In the examples of real, present-day communities that follow, we will see both of these variants emerging. Sternudd and Johannsen agree that the kind of suffering depicted in online communities differs from its typical manifestations because it often collapses together individual suffering and collective group suffering. In the case of self-harm, the barrier between mental and physical suffering is also eroded (2015, p. 342). This is a substantial threat to individualistic Western culture, where emotions are seen as subjective and personal. Collectivist self-harm groups can provide a deep challenge to the idea that healing an individual is possible.

Pro-ana and pro-mia: an introduction to harmful content online

One of the earliest themes to emerge in user-generated problematic content is the veneration of anorexia and bulimia in the lifestyles known as pro-ana and pro-mia¹ (also described collectively as pro-ED [eating disorder]).² The normalisation of eating disorders as a lifestyle choice remains common in online circles and is a good starting point for understanding how groups of this nature function. Participants in pro-ED groups often view anorexia or bulimia as a legitimate alternative to normal eating patterns, as opposed to a dangerous illness (L...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of plates
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 Self-harm on social networks: understanding online eating disorder and self-harm communities
• 2 The aesthetics of self-harm: visual rhetoric as a key to understanding online activities
• 3 Sad Girls: the internet and the performance of mood
• 4 Suggestions for clinical practitioners: developing tools for managing visually oriented self-harmers
• 5 Healing through aesthetics: how images can guide behaviour and health
• Index