Sometimes, unexpectedly and without warning, you end up facing an abyss you never even knew existed. Sometimes you wake up in the morning and you don't know who you are, or where you're going, or why you should even bother getting out of bed.
You think to yourself, "I could just lie here and never do another thing, not say another word, not take another action. Everything would be exactly the same as it will be if I get up and struggle, strive, and suffer my way through another day."
But for some inexplicable reason, you go ahead and get out of bed and put on your clothes, but you realize that you still don't have the slightest idea who you are. So you pull a Self out of your Self drawer, and you put this Self on, because nothing would be worse than to be seen in your inner nakedness.
Still, it's a lie, and you know it's a lie, and your clothes don't fit, and your smile is too thin, and your Self is not who you really are. So you try on a different Self, and that one's a little better, but it's not quite right for the day, and you try on another, and another, and pretty soon you've run plum out of Selves, and there's personality fragments strewn all over the house, and you still haven't found a set of personal attributes you really like.
But it's getting late, and the world is waiting, and goddess knows, you don't want to keep people waiting, and you end up grabbing a Self at random and rushing out the door, still adjusting your emotions and straightening your philosophy as you hurry to your daily doom.
Then you get to where you're going, and to your utter discomfiture, you realize that you've chosen a Self that absolutely does not mesh with anybody else's Self, and so you spend the whole day in isolation, made worse by the fact that all the other Selves seem to interact with each other in effortless spontaneity.
The next morning you take your time choosing a Self, and you're pretty sure you've found a good one, that pretty closely resembles your inner personality, but when you get to your life, you find that this ideal Self you were so proud of designing is an utter flop. It doesn't make people love, respect, or even like you. It's out of synchronization with the rest of the world, and every impulse you manifest makes people regard you as if you were a pariah.
Oh, it ends eventually; at least for most people. You finally find a Self that works, but it's a lot of work. And every night when you go to sleep you know that there's a chance you will lose your Self somewhere in dreamspace and wake up utterly devoid of identity.
What kind of mask will you wear for Halloween this year? What archetype will you emulate? Who will you be?
What deep fears will you evoke? Which primal face of terror will you present to the world? Will you be Death? Or perhaps some mythical beast? The Minotaur, or The Devil, or some modern representation of ancient elemental power?
What could be more terrifying than facing the inner darkness when you implode into the nothingness that lies at the core of your own being?