Fear feels safe, in a way. It's all-encompassing, pervasive, persuasive, and contagious.
Really, it's like the perfect weapon.
But make no mistake--it is a weapon and all weapons--even fists and sticks, stones and snowballs--are dangerous and deadly. So while your fear may make you feel sheltered and protected, it will turn on you. It will grab you by the arms, this friend, this protector, and shove you in front of it as soon as there's the slightest hint of danger, the slightest threat of damage to its own being.
Sure, it will fight your battles for you. Until it won't. Until it uses you like the body shield you are, leaving you with nothing--no skills, no wits, no survival instinct, and no cavalry to save you because, honey child, fear will alienate you.
Fear will pull you away from your tribe and insert you into a traveling band of fear-mongers who will, I promise you, scatter like roaches in the light of any threat. They will leave you high and dry--a moving target.
And, man, won't that make them feel safe.