Outside

In 2017, photo projects on colta.ru are divided into several blocks. The fifth block is called “Private” and demonstrates works that penetrate the private space beyond the boundaries of the generally accepted and permitted, which outstand the individuality of the author and the hero. The first of them is the Tata Gorian project “outside of himself” about people who are used to causing pain.

From the author

Cuts, scratches, combs, cigarette burns and other signs on the body are traces of selfharma. Selfharm begins with hatred of himself, or the desire to drown out emotional pain, or loss of sensation of control over his life.

“Outside” is a performance to transfer auto -aggression to the outside world. The heroes themselves chose a liberating action. For some, this became the experience of destruction (chop the cabinet with an ax, beat plates), and for someone-the experience of creation (sculpt from clay). Thanks to perfect actions, the physical transformation of the body moved into the physical transformation of the world.

“Outside” consists of portraits of heroes made immediately after transferring their auto -aggression to the external environment, and fixing the space changed under their influence. The gaze of the heroes is turned inside and at the same time seems to be beyond the borders of the body. The transformed space looks like a crime scene that took over the pain of the heroes.

Sonya

22 years old, St. Petersburg

The first time I cut myself at the age of 14, and this was rather a tribute to fashion. But then Selfharm became a way to transfer internal experiences to the body and draw attention to himself. I wanted my cuts to be noticed and asked what is happening to me. My mother is a busy person, she works a lot and has never been superlac, so I wanted to get a little attention from her.

And then it became a habit. If it hurts me, I calm myself in this way. It became easier. At 16, when you begin to think about the future, life, universal problems, it covers you. It seems that it is impossible to share this with anyone. And if you cut yourself, thoughts are released, and you concentrate only on pain.

Recently I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Now I understand that often the periods of self -overpass fell on the manic phase. I was cool, but absolutely disappeared a sense of self -preservation. I did not feel fear or pain. She could put a cigarette about herself at a party, boasting of it. An incredible amount of rage appeared in the manic phase, and since I do not like to argue and sort things out, I directed aggression towards myself so as not to offend anyone.

I have a craving for a selfharm every day, but I try to be distracted by something or express my anxiety in another way. Creativity helps me, I draw and photograph, do something with my hands. I can go for a run. Let my muscles hurt better than I will torment myself.

Artem

28 years old, pine forest

I was born with an eye like Tom York. My hell began with the kindergarten. Cruel children oppressed me. In many children's photos I roar. I believed that the school would change everything. But in the class I suffered both moral blows and physical ones, so I even got used to them. I was called a “drug addict” (because of thinness as a constitution of the body), “crooked” (because of the eye). I don't remember everything. In the 11th grade, I woke up to school with my thoughts that it was the ugly of all people on the planet, sat on the floor, grabbed my head (hurt), tell my mother: “Mom, I am a freak, I won’t go to school, lead me to a psychiatrist.”

In Nipni to them. Bekhtereva, after painful diagnostics, was diagnosed with “paranoid schizophrenia F20.0” on the basis of dysmorphomania (pathological conviction in the presence of imaginary physical deficiency).

I no longer remember what it feels like to be healthy. About a year ago, I began to cause various injuries. At first he scratched himself with his nails, then fought his head against the wall, and then began to cut himself with a knife. This is terrible, I do not promote, I do not want anyone and I want to stop it. But this method helps me with psychogenic pains (for example, when my ears hurt, but in fact everything is in order with them). After the self -harma, it becomes calm, a light emptiness appears inside, there are no thoughts. And it seems that my body is not my body. I am in an anesthetic state and I do not feel absolutely no pain.

Maria

32 years, St. Petersburg

I was 15 years old. A fascinating romance with a man of dreams and Fight Club as a desktop film. Therefore, the idea of ​​self -destruction, more precisely, the torture of the flesh for the sake of a greater spiritual lift seemed then obvious and attractive.

It all started with nonsense: walk barefoot in the snow. Do not run out for five minutes and jump back with laughter, but, clasping your teeth, go from the stop, for example. I never felt as alive as going into a dirty entrance from the street. The tile seemed warm and soft. This, perhaps, I practiced the longest. Until moving to St. Petersburg. And, I remember, I suffered when the first year the winter did not begin for a long, long time, and the need to distract from the inner howl was big.

After snowy walks, it was time for burns, which was more consistent with the “fighting club”. I limited myself to two: on my left hand a burn made by me with incense, on the right - a burn from a cigarette made by a man of dreams. I closed my eyes and suffered the pain while he extinguished the cigarette. I did not remember the end, because he took the cigarette, but the pain remained.

I remember that at that time I always wore some kind of painful storm inside itself, it had its own pleasure, but for the most part there is still a sharp emptiness. And the moments when it was possible to be distracted from her, were blessed.

I probably did not continue, because I regretted my mother. And then I left, and in general an adult life began, where this anxiety has weakened and can cope with it with simple things: tear paper, break off the paint, the cube is tactile.

Nastya

18 years old, Moscow

I have been suffering from Selfharma for about seven years. My first experience occurred at 11 years old. Then I quarreled with my mother and older sister. I do not remember the essence of the conflict at all, but then I first picked up the cutting object and made shallow cuts on my left wrist. When I saw blood, I was frightened and tried to bandage the whole thing with a bandage. But the elders still noticed and began to report. The next day, at school, I wanted to show my cuts to people: they say, look, yes, there was a srach, yeah. Now I understand that, not knowing how to ask for help, I presented everything in a comic light and people did not take it seriously.

Every year I got worse and worse. And the stereotype of behavior “guilty - punished - it became easier” rooted. Selfharm acquired for me a completely ordinary form of punishment of myself. Mom shaved me for this more than for something else. I never walked with short sleeves and always hid my scars. Once we went to my first psychologist, and from the whole conversation I remembered only that she gave me goodbye. Do you know what the qualified psychologist said to the girl with her hands cut from wrist to shoulder? She said: “And try not to make sausage from your hand anymore,” and smiled.

When I was in a relationship with a former young man, I cut myself if not every week, then after two. This was the only way to have a splash of guilt for everything that I considered wrong and bad. It was a vicious circle that I could not break for years. When I told the former that I resisted Selfharma, he only snorted and said: "Well, like all normal people." He, like many others, could not even imagine how much this was a huge effort. Previously, I did not have a psychologist and psychiatrist that I could write. There were no people nearby who can reassure me. There were no tranquilizers who simply turn me off at the time of psychosis. I used to have a former who could not stand it all. There was a mother who ashamed me daily, not trying to understand what was happening. I understand that they were scared. I understand that they had their own reasons for such a reaction. I understand everything. But this does not block the fact that their reaction negatively influenced my and so shook psyche.

Over time, I had people who did not close their eyes on this and showed that they did not spit. What they want to help. That they will not turn away from me after that. Of course, now I have already learned how to manage to turn to someone for help. I have drugs that suppress my psychosis. I had ways to get myself out of a stupor and find any lesson so as not to throw out everything to myself.

Tanya

22 years old, Moscow

I have okr (obsessive-compulsive disorder). It makes me control the objects around me. Permanent control exhausts, and anxiety is accumulated inside because many actions are not made or made incorrectly. When I could not cope with the amount of control, I resorted to the self -harm. She scratched herself with manicure scissors, and later a blade. There is no suicidal subtext in this. So I punished myself for failure to fulfill the rituals and controlled emotional pain (when it becomes bad, easier to transfer the pain to the physical level). By the way, I have a very low pain threshold, and I experience any pain much. But in the moments of self -confusion, I do not feel her.

Most of my rituals were based on the "collection of energy" and the score. There were years at school when I was thought out every day. If I was asked what I was doing at 16:38, I would say because I knew for sure. I knew how much I would go to the toilet, how much I would drink tea. When she retreated from the schedule, she panicked terribly. And if then something happened bad, blamed the ritual failure in this. I wrote the pages of the abstracts, pulled them out, wrote again - not because the notes were wrong, but because it was “necessary”. In addition to the account, there was a “energy collection”. This is when it seems to me that my energy remained on the subject and it is necessary to remove it. For this, for example, I am shaking the handle many times. If I return after a few steps, I make a bug behind myself, which “takes back” energy.

When I did not have time to rewrite the notebook, fold and lay out my clothes, go down and go up to the chatting bed so many times that it seems-it will never end and will last endlessly-then to compensate and stop it, I punished myself. After that, you could relax and go to bed.

Now everything is much simpler. I managed to overcome most rituals. I have a very supportive young man who helps me in this. Only a great dependence on the control of space cleaning remained. I don’t care when the dust and mess is at home or somewhere in public places. It is important that they are not at my place. I do not leave the apartment until I get away. We even have no dust in the rays of light that falls into the room. If they appear there, I immediately have a panic.

Xenia

19 years old, St. Petersburg

I have always been the most ordinary girl. She obeyed her parents, walked little and studied “excellent”. But suddenly in the 10th grade she began to bother about its appearance. There were attempts to get rid of the “excess” weight that I never had. It all ended with a disorder of food behavior. I was afraid of food like fire, caused vomiting after each meal, I ate one chocolate per day for a month. For two years, I forgot what it is - it is normal. Not one chocolate per day, not the whole refrigerator in the evening.

After the 11th grade, I moved from my native polar town to study in St. Petersburg. I thought a new city, a new life. But no. I have long thought that I could not cope alone and I need a specialist, but pulled. I didn't want to disturb my parents. In the fall, I finally turned to a psychotherapist. Thanks to him, I got rid of the disorder of food behavior - bulimia. I remembered what the concepts of “hunger” and “satiety” mean. But with the departure of food disorder, a new - self -hut, self -repactions appeared. Bulimia was also a kind of self-overflow for me, but in a more sophisticated form or something. With her departure, cuts came. On the arms, legs and neck. I still could not stand myself. But no longer the body, but your own personality. In a fit of self -promotion, I beat the walls with my fists, grabbed the knives, blades and scissors. There were fewer places on the body where another injury could be applied, inconspicuous under clothes.

At first I was worried about what people would think, seeing my broken hands, but then I decided that it did not matter. It doesn't matter what people think. Much more important than this experience has become for me. I learned to look at myself and others differently. She learned to appreciate her body and be grateful to him for every day, not to devalue her needs and feelings. I do not know if it is right to talk about all this in the past tense. Because I still can’t say that I can’t do damage to myself, that I do not cut myself. But I work on it.

Alex

27 years old, Moscow

I was 22. I was seriously worried about breaking up with a girl and decided: this is the best that I can do. He poured a potassium permanganate on the skin and sealed with a plaster. He held it six to seven hours. I was a chemist and represented a little effect, but in the end the burning sensation was not as strong as I wanted.

But it became easier for me. Physical pain helped drown out mental suffering. Even some synchronism arose. It also returned me a sense of control over my life. There was a feeling that you could not influence anything at all. And here I can do something, and it helps me somehow.

I practiced Selfharm only twice when I really needed to get rid of suffering that there was no strength to transfer.

Daria Casimir (Darius)

24 years old, Riga

From early childhood, I was not a vitality, and the family troubles only exacerbated painful sensations. Then there was a school, and they did not accept me at all. As a result, physical and verbal bullying, hatred of oneself, rejection, a sense of acute loneliness, defenselessness, hopelessness. So I began to inflict various injuries with the help of sharp objects, and sometimes engage in self -beatenia. And somehow there was no one nearby who could understand and help. With our parents, we have formed a black abyss in relations, and their behavior became aggressive and cold. Everything came to the attempt of suicide. Then they sent me to the psychologist. She did a lot for me and even became the only close person at that time.

Over time, a partial recovery, a change of school, city, and the situation came. But I still sometimes inflicted injuries for myself, because I could not accept myself, I could not love myself. Only a complete immersion in my creative activity, which became an absolute mirror and the embodiment of all my experiences, thoughts and doubts, helped me. However, I will not hide that sometimes in difficult moments I really want to return to past practices. But while I am holding on. I hope that still finally.

In society, it is customary to grieve only for generally accepted reasons, for example, the death of a loved one. Human pain in other manifestations is taboo. I always have the following question: why can a person walk the streets and show that he is happy (in love, for example, when he goes with another person), but cannot demonstrate what hurts him? Both sorrow and sadness are great feelings. I would like it to be rethought over time. And, it seems to me, everything goes to that. Because there is a lot of external pain, and it is no longer simply ridiculed.

Kate

35 years, Moscow

It is so unpleasant and terrible to admit this. I am intrusively ejecting everything that seems wrong to me. The reason is simple - I want to be beautiful and without acne. It seems that I am making myself better, but it only gets worse. I understand my mind, I can’t stop. And only at 30 I caught myself thinking that this business is aggravated on my nerves: when I fight at home, or get tired of work, or I feel uncertainly, or I can’t cope with something.

I try to control myself. Although I can sit at the computer in thought and not notice how I was taking my ear. I was greatly pricked when I talked with one girl and she began to reap her face in the process of conversation. And I realized: I am doing this too, it's so terrible.

My recognition is perhaps the first step to start fighting this healthy methods.

Natasha

21 years old, Ryazan

The first time I put cuts in an attack of anger. I was 12 years old. And the reason was a conflict with the relatives with whom I live. Mother was deprived of his rights for cruelty, and my father threw me into the care of my uncle and aunt when I was 7 years old.

At the age of 14, when my father died, I caused cuts for myself either with a blade or a kitchen knife. I was in a serious emotional state. I was very sad, and I was far from relatives. By and large, I lacked human warmth and love. Even in my head, the phrase of my mother, which was told to me, constantly lived. When I was not even a year old, my mother came to my uncle with aunt and said: "Listen, do you want to take it shit?"

At the age of 15, I began problems with gender identity. In appendage, she fell in love with a person sticking on anorexic. And why is hunger worse than blades? As a result - a broken body and 42 kg. Real horror and active phase of the self -harm began after entering the university. I am even scared to remember what was happening to me. The mania was replaced by subdepiction, study flew to the hell, a complete disappointment in itself, their life and appearance.

У меня исполосованы ноги, живот, руки, грудь, низ спины. Я всегда хожу в закрытой одежде. Лето — самое ужасное время года для меня. Как-то я пыталась переключиться на другой вид самоповреждений, чтобы не оставалось следов, и кромсала язык.

Пик эмоций приходится на сам процесс. Я не знаю, как это объяснить. Представь: тебя очень сильно что-то огорчило, но ты не в состоянии кому-то об этом рассказать по тем или иным причинам. Внутри копится агрессивная энергия, и хочется ее выплеснуть. Тогда просто замахиваешься лезвием и полосуешь. Это больно, но одновременно это сильный эмоциональный выплеск. Чувствуешь свободу и даже ощущаешь удовлетворение от таких действий, потому что вот он я, вот мое тело и я делаю с ним абсолютно все, что хочу.

Кира

23 года, Санкт-Петербург

Началось все лет в 13—14, когда меня переполняли сильнейшие эмоции и поиски смысла жизни. Они заполняли, и заполняли, и заполняли меня изнутри, но выхода им не было. Тогда я выцарапал первую надпись у себя на руке, заполнив ее чернилами из ручки. Это было выражение сильнейшей любви к музыке одной группы. Потом была любовь к словам, герою комикса, аниме. С 21 года у меня депрессия, и с этого момента все усугубилось, но я лечусь.

Сейчас, когда я нервничаю и беспокоюсь о чем-то или мне просто нечем заняться, я начинаю расцарапывать себе плечи, руки, тело, лицо или сдирать заусенцы, отрезать кусочки кожи с пальцев, искать в себе штуки, которые меня раздражают, мешают, и стараюсь от них избавиться. Когда я себя повреждаю, то, с одной стороны, чувствую удовольствие, потому что успокаиваюсь, а с другой — думаю, какую херь я творю, зачем, посмотри на себя, зачем ты портишь себя.

Честно, я бы очень хотел перестать этим заниматься, но у меня откровенно не получается.