Imagine you're on a mountain.
You've been hiking up this mountain for a while now. You've come across wildlife, both friendly and unfriendly. You've witnessed the beauty of the quaint forest.
You may have even strayed off the trail a few times, but you've always found your way back to the rocky path.
And then you come across a jagged cliff.
You walk to the edge, but you're careful not to fall over it. You're afraid of heights.
All of a sudden, these sinister beasts come sneaking up behind you, claws drawn. They surround you, tearing off your skin, gnawing at your bones, and yanking out your hair, strand by strand.
The pain is agonizing. You want it to stop. But there's nobody around to help you. They're all in the serenity of the forest.
But the cliff is still there.
You don't want to jump. You don't know how far the cliff goes or what's waiting for you at the bottom. But the pain is unbearable. The beasts are clawing at you, tearing pieces of you away.
If you don't do something, they will turn you into a shell. An outline. A frame of a human. Nothing will be left.
You can try to run back to the forest, but you've tried this before. You always try to run back and pretend that the monsters aren't right behind you but they always are.
And they always catch you. No matter how fast you run. Because they're faster. Stronger. They outnumber you. You can never beat them. But they won't follow you over the cliff.
They're afraid of heights as well.
The pain is so excruciating that you can't even think straight. The pain starts to overpower your fear of heights. The only way to end the pain is to jump.
You don't want to, but you have no choice.
So you do it.