Self-destruction in the depth-psychological corpus is not a monolithic pathology but a constellation of forces that range from the neurotic to the mythic, from the clinical to the soteriological. Horney’s meticulous phenomenology traces self-destructive drives as the inward turning of self-hate — the violent eruption of an idealized self upon the actual, empirical self it despises, manifesting in everything from nail-biting to imagined self-mutilation. Fromm situates destructiveness within the broader dialectic of freedom and isolation: when the burden of selfhood becomes unbearable, the individual either submits masochistically or turns annihilating force outward or inward. Hillman, approaching from archetypal psychology, refuses the simple pathologizing of self-destruction, reading suicide and violent self-attack as the soul’s drive toward transformation and essence — a demand for a different mode of being rather than mere cessation. Trungpa contributes a contemplative axis, identifying self-destruction as the consequence of refusing one’s own growth, a confusion that is effective precisely because it is self-inflicted. Jung, in the Red Book, warns that the will of destruction, once unleashed outward, inevitably turns back upon the destroyer. Kalsched and Winnicott illuminate how the psyche’s own defensive architecture can become persecutory, attacking the very self it was organized to protect. Neumann locates self-destruction mythologically in the revenge of the Great Mother upon the ego that defies her. Taken together, these voices reveal a field in which self-destruction is simultaneously symptom, defense, punishment, and — ambiguously — an impulse toward transformation.