I am thinking of the Pink Floyd record Run Like Hell. It's not one of their best, IMHO, I'm more of a Dark Side of the Moon kind of guy or even Piper at the Gates of Dawn even though I have slightly terrifying memories of the latter. Run. Get out. I guess Updike wrote a whole book on this theme though I never got very far in it, last I remember the policeman was discussing with Rabbit why he could not engage in the activity of drinking with his wife.
The pendulum swinging between fear and trust. Both and. The people I know may know what I need better than me and I am an expert on myself, knowing things that are only part of my experience. (I think of the Johari window.) The terror one might feel upon discovery that someone one trusted is not who he or she seems to be, does not have the same interests, we are working at cross purposes, the rules of the game were not apparent. Maybe it is like that in divorce and raising children subsequently. Someone has everyday insight but may be too close to the situation, or may have primarily his interests, his secrets, his squalor, his inability to admit difficulty and accept help. The other may not have the courage, a condtioned response not to argue and say the truth, quickened by fear, tossed about by multiple perspectives, trying to decide what's fair rather than assert what he wants.
I don't know. I cannot reflect. This hasn't been very specific. I am thinking of an early Monty Python episode where John Cleese plays the cliched version of a cowboy and tells the ineffectual Michael Palin character "There's a time when a man has to stop running." Then there's the amazing story I heard at the Monti in Durham, NC last year, listen to the ending.