Yours is Fear. This is not the nervous, flinching kind of fear, and it is not a weakness in you. It is the deep pull toward what you do not yet understand. Your mind is fuelled by the unknown: the thing not yet examined, the question nobody has answered, the rock nobody has turned over. Uncertainty does not repel you, it recruits you. You are driven to look, to dig, to find out, and to replace the not-knowing with something solid you can stand on. Underneath, this is a survival instinct, and it makes you a natural investigator.
Lived cleanly, this shows up as genuine curiosity rather than worry. You are the one who goes first into the murky thing and comes back with clarity, and people trust the ground you have already tested. You will also notice a swing between two moves: sometimes you head toward people, because company makes the unknown safe to face, and sometimes you step away from everyone to get clear on your own. Both are correct when they are a real response to the moment rather than a habit you cannot break.
The drift to watch for is quiet. Fear slides into need. Instead of moving toward the unknown because it genuinely interests you, you start telling yourself you need one more thing before you can begin: more information, more preparation, more reassurance, more of whatever will finally make it safe. The hunger never settles, because it was never really about the missing thing. Curiosity has hardened into anxiety, and anxiety always finds something else to require. The usual trigger is pressure to be certain before you have had a chance to look.
The correction is simple, if not always easy: go and look. Your fuel is clean when you treat not-knowing as an invitation rather than a threat, and when the question itself, not the reassurance, is what moves you. Ask it, chase it down, and let the clarity you find be the thing that settles you.