This is not a new concept. The scientific equivalent to this is “Learned Helplessness.”

Wikipedia says :

Learned helplessness is the condition of a human or animal that has learned to behave helplessly, failing to respond even though there are opportunities for it to help itself by avoiding unpleasant circumstances or by gaining positive rewards.

The poster child experiment learned helplessness has to do with dogs being shocked.

Group 1 was placed in a harness and let go after a period of time.
Group 2 was placed in a harness and administered an electrical shock. They could end the shocks by pressing a lever.
Group 3 was placed in a harness and then shocked at random. The lever did nothing and the dogs learned to be helpless.

Groups 1 and 2 recovered but group 3 exhibited traits of depression.

Part 2 of the experiment placed the dogs in a box which shocked them. The dogs could escape the shock by jumping over a small barrier.

Groups 1 and 2 learned to escape the shocks but group 3 lay helpless and whined.
Group 3 learned to be helpless. They “knew” that they couldn’t escape the shock so they accepted their fate and lay helpless.

The dogs accepted their fate and put no effort to change it. What’s more comfortable? Putting forth hard effort even in times of doubt or accepting your fate and giving zero effort?

This is why misery is comfortable. It takes zero effort.
Happiness takes effort, deliberate and hard effort when the odds are against you.
Misery doesn’t have to deal with adversity or doubt.
Misery simmers in it’s own pot of negativity.
As long as you don’t create anything in your life, then nobody can attack the thing you created.

I’ve put of and failed to start projects because of this. My subconscious was always nervous that whatever I create wouldn’t be perfect and because it wasn’t perfect, it would be attacked, criticized, and scrutinized. I was afraid of offending or being wrong. As a result, I would put off projects or things I wanted to create. Deep down I know that I wanted to express myself and create but my ego was scared, it was scared of being attacked. So what did I do instead?

I hid. I hid in the comforts of my own ego with an arsenal of reasons as to why I shouldn’t fight. Instead, I stayed in the safe zone and admired those on the front lines. Leaving me wondering “what if."

It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat. - Theodore Roosevelt

Writing this was hard. My ego kicked and screamed to not do it.

No one is going to read this, so why even waste your time?

Your writing is pretty amateur, you’re not a writer, just stop.

You’ve never received above a B+ in writing EVER. What makes you think you’re a writer?

Misery knows neither victory nor defeat so fuck off ego.