Eminem Quotes

I knew from a very young age that there was something very wrong with me.

There was a three-year chunk as a teen where I should have been tranquilized and put in a cage.

I hit my head against the wall because I don't want to know all the terrible things that I know about. I don't want to feel all these wretched things, but they're in me already. If I don't get rid of them, I'm not ever going to feel anything else.

When I was younger, I did self-mutilate. I'd be upset, so I'd do it, & it would calm me down. It's a horrible way to feel better. But there are two parts of your brain - one that really wants to destroy the other. & sometimes the idea of self-destruction is very romantic. I got over that.

I don't think you're human unless you go through some [self-destructi on].

Self-destructive patterns cause as much suffering as outer catastrophes.

Hatred is always self hatred, and there is something suicidal about it.

Most self-laceration is more noisy than painful.

For a long time now, every meeting with another human being has been the reverberations after even the simplest conversation. But the deep collision is and has been with my unregenerate, tormenting and tormented self...I am unable to become what I see. I feel like an inadequate machine, a machine that breaks down at crucial moments, grinds to a dreadful halt, "won't go".

Cutting, and suicide, two very different symptoms of the same problem, are gaining on us. I personally don't know a single person who doesn't know at least two of these victims personally.

Psychotherapy is a sanctuary; it is a battleground; it is a place I have been psychotic, neurotic, elated, confused, and despairing beyond belief.

What is most difficult is when the large part of me that is a narcissist grows weary and is overtaken by the self-loathing part that always lurks in the shadows waiting for an opportunity to shine.

So I constantly play women who are damaged and out of touch, who are seeking without knowing, or knowing without the skills to transform their lives. But then, that's really the fate of many women today.

I voluntarily inflicted a certain level of insanity on myself.

There used to be a real me, but I had it surgically removed.

I used the diabetes as my weapon. Of course, I was only hurting myself and making myself sicker, but I guess it was something I had to go through. I never went overboard so much that I really hurt myself, but my early teenage years were very tough.

Make no mistake, adolescence is a war. No one gets out unscathed.

You're always fighting the demons.

My body is covered with bruises from pinching myself on a daily basis.

I had to fight with myself not to hurt people, some serious mental wars.

I went through an extreme depression.

Shame--what happened when my mother, the dragon, huffed and puffed and blew my self down.

I didn’t get her cutting at all. She’d done it sporadically, ever since the accident and it scared me each time. She'd try to explain it to me, how she didn't want to die—she just needed to get it out somehow. She felt so much emotionally, she would say, that a physical outlet—physical pain—was the only way to make the internal pain go away. It was the only way she could control it.

Self-hatred is worse than loneliness.

It seemed to me the way it must feel to people who cut themselves on purpose. Not pretty, but clean. Not good, but void of regret. I was trying to heal. Trying to get the bad out of my system so I could be good again. To cure me of myself.