Fearometer: 2 – now there's time to worry about life, love and the universe- phew
A big part of this particular breed of fear you cultivate is vanity. You don't do the work because no eartly incarnation could possibly do justice to your brilliance. Your levels of self aggrandisement are gargantuan, so much so that like a house of cards, they crumble by virtue of their unbearable size. And so what started as self-adoration in its infancy turns to hatred. The most passionate love affair of your life is also the rockiest.
The pinnacle before the lows aren't being well, they are inextricably linked to the crash. As you can't possibly live up to the cherished portrait you hold of yourslelf, you hold yourself to ransom in fits of impotent rage, to show the world that you hold the power to destroy this unsatisfactory imposter. The only problem is the story of self hatred sounds so sweet and safe once you hear it fullly that you believe it. After all this voice doesn't ask anything of you, so you banish hateful vanity which drove you to live.
This kidnapping starts by a few throwaway self deprecating remarks, which impel contradictions from others at first, until they become reckless, worrying, and others fade from view and you are left alone. The chase ends in a back street when you're confronted by a cracked self in a mirror,unrecognisable.
So you claw things back. And come to realise that maybe the vanity of the past didnt deserve such disdain. It drove you on. And tempered and caged it must remain.