Small observations of what we call 'fear'

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Why do we fear self-awareness? Are we frightened of not knowing what to make of it? Or are we scared to see something we don't like?

We trap e things we don't like about ourselves in a glass jar in a vacuum -as if hoping to suffocate them- and we save them in the most remote place of our being. And so we live with fear, a constant fright of someone discovering it; what would people think about ourselves if the knew about those terrible secrets? Would they treat us the same?

Nevertheless, we hope that someone who dares to break the jar arrives, or at least, someone who make us muster enough courage to break it ourselves.
Although, why does somebody have to arrive to take care of OUR problems?, Is it always like this? Do we always wait for someone to save us?, This is because we can't do it on our own or because we are scared? Scared of what?

We reach a certain point in which Fear cocoons us in a haze and we lose perspective, it turns us all into short-sighted people. Now the only thing in our reach is ourselves, it is the only thing Fear allows us to see. We can't see beyond ourselves.
And so we build an impregnable fortress, we protect it with a dragon and surround it with a lave river -as with the object of no-one being able to enter, at least not alive-. But we also install a drawbridge, with the illusion of someday opening it and letting someone in. Meanwhile, the drawbridge is always lifted. Hard and unflinching.  Waiting to being opened.

Although, will we aver be able to do it? Will we ever have the guts to confide in someone our darkest  and deepest secrets, someone besides ourselves?

We have a shining armour made of stainless steel and we are waiting for it to be corroded, however we don't try taking it off, because it is there to protect us, right? But to protect us from what? We may not find it logical, but still there it is, unmoved as always. Every day we prepare ourselves for battle, without having a clear threat. Nevertheless, we are always waiting: waiting for our problems to solve themselves, waiting for someone to come and save us, waiting for the day in which, out of the blue, we are dauntless enough to face the music.

And still we the false belief that we are protecting ourselves, we hate the armour. We hate the resulting estrangement between ourselves and the rest of the world. We have that it 'must' be there. We hate its mere existence. And so, we unconsciously try to destroy it. We drink the poison hoping that it reaches the armour and disintegrates it, but the only thing we accomplish is it corroding us fromthe inside. And the armour is still there, shining derisively. Why did we even have to don the armour in the first place?  Why did nobody warn us before that the path we are going down can only lead to self-destruction? Did they notice and didn't care or were they in such a thick haze they couldn't notice?

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Chaos isnt a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given the chance to climb. They refuse, they cling to the realm, the gods or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.

Petyr Baelish.