The Fuzzy Journal

by Rabiya Nizam

I’ve always had a fiery streak—quick to anger, quick to defend, and, unfortunately, quick to push people away. Looking back, I realize that anger was never just an emotion for me. It was my armor, my weapon, my coping mechanism. And for years, I thought it was helping me survive. But in reality, it was eating me alive from the inside out.

The Early Sparks: Where It All Began

Ever since I was young, anger felt like my best friend. Maybe it was because I grew up in an environment where empathy was scarce. Maybe I was just a sensitive kid who didn’t know how to process emotions in a “healthy” way. Whatever the reason, I found myself defaulting to anger at the smallest inconvenience. Someone disagreed with me? I lashed out. Someone ignored me? I felt rejected and reacted aggressively. A minor setback? My brain screamed,

fight, fight, fight!

At first, it didn’t seem like a problem. If anything, I felt powerful. I could shut people down with a single outburst. No one could hurt me if I put up my walls fast enough. But what I didn’t realize was that I was slowly poisoning my relationships, my creativity, and, most of all, myself.

From Anger to Resentment: The Slow Burn

As I got older, my anger didn’t just disappear—it evolved. It turned into something darker, something deeper: resentment. I started holding grudges, even over the smallest things. I felt like the whole world was against me, and I needed to constantly be on guard.
This rebellious streak became my identity. I refused to conform, but not in a cool, indie-movie-protagonist way—more in a self-destructive, burn-every-bridge-before-they-burn-me kind of way. I became an expert at pushing people away. And the worst part? I convinced myself I was better off that way.

The Fallout: When Anger Starts Hurting You More Than Others

There’s a dangerous thing about living with constant anger—it doesn’t stay contained. It doesn’t just lash out at others; it turns inward. At some point, I stopped just being angry at the world. I started being angry at myself.
I hated how easily I lost control. I hated how people looked at me, either afraid or frustrated. I hated that I was ruining relationships that I actually cared about. And that self-hatred? It led me down a road I never expected—self-harm.
Self-harm doesn’t always look like the stereotypical image most people have. For me, it started small: staying up all night, skipping meals, isolating myself, ignoring the things that once brought me joy. But eventually, it escalated. My own mind became my worst enemy. Instead of lashing out at others, I started punishing myself.

Isolation: The Loneliest Place to Be

One of the most ironic things about anger as a coping mechanism is that it isolates you. You start using it as a defense, but before you know it, you’ve built a fortress so high that no one can reach you—not even the people who genuinely care.
I kept myself at a distance because I felt unsafe around people. I was convinced they would judge me, abandon me, or hurt me in some way. So, to protect myself, I lashed out first. I made sure no one got too close. But in doing so, I ended up hurting myself more than anyone else ever could.
There’s a certain emptiness that comes with realizing you’ve pushed everyone away. It’s a strange, hollow feeling—like standing in a room full of people but still feeling completely alone.

The Turning Point: Realizing the Truth

The thing about anger is that it feels powerful in the moment, but in the long run, it leaves you exhausted. It burns everything in its path, and eventually, you’re left with nothing but ashes. And I? I was so tired.
At some point, I had to ask myself: Is this really how I want to live?
The answer was obvious, but change isn’t easy. When anger is your default setting, rewiring your brain to respond differently takes time. I had to learn how to sit with uncomfortable emotions without exploding. I had to unlearn the belief that everyone was out to get me. And most importantly, I had to forgive myself for the damage I had done—not just to others, but to myself.

Healing: The Not-So-Magical, But Totally Worth-It Journey

I wish I could say that one day I woke up and everything was fixed, but that’s not how healing works. It’s slow. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. But it’s worth it. Here’s what helped me start my journey:
1. Understanding My Triggers
I had to figure out what set me off. Was it feeling unheard? Feeling unimportant? Once I knew my triggers, I could start working on how to react differently.
2. Learning How to Pause
Before reacting, I started forcing myself to take a breath. Count to ten. Walk away. Anything to stop myself from going into full rage mode.
3. Expressing My Emotions in Healthier Ways
Journaling, painting, working out—these became my outlets instead of explosive anger. Creativity, which I had lost for so long, started coming back.
4. Letting People In
This was the hardest part. But slowly, I started opening up. I allowed myself to be vulnerable, to admit when I was struggling instead of masking it with aggression.
5. Therapy (Because Sometimes, You Need Help!)
For the longest time, I thought I could fix myself alone. But professional help made a world of difference. Therapy gave me tools I didn’t even know I needed.

Where I Am Now: A Work in Progress

I won’t lie—I still get angry. I still feel defensive sometimes. But the difference is that I don’t let it control me anymore. I don’t let it dictate how I treat others or myself. The truth is, anger isn’t bad—it’s just an emotion. It’s what we do with it that matters. And now, instead of letting it consume me, I try to understand it.
If you’re someone who, like me, has used anger as a shield, I hope you know this: You don’t have to live like this forever. There’s another way. A better way. And trust me, life on the other side of anger? It’s so much lighter. You deserve peace. And it’s never too late to find it.

By Rabiya Nizam

Note: Image used are Ai generated