A wicked irony, that sometimes the unknown terrifies me. But shed some light, draw a map, and the unknown becomes the known. And when the known is terrifying? I turn back to what's unknown and pray that there's something good left in it. And something will always be unknown, so I can always pray. Pyrrhic victory, that.
We all have a degree of existential resilience. No reason why that I can see, but the smarter you are, the greater the immunity you need.