A reader uses humour to describe a long-standing fear of spiders and the practical ways it has affected daily life.
This is a reader’s personal account, edited for readability. Ages and circumstances refer to the time of submission. It is not a clinical assessment.
A reader’s account
Like a lot of people, I’m deathly afraid of spiders. I know, I know. It’s an irrational fear. I do realize that. When people try and tell me that spiders don’t pose a threat to me (or, you know, at least the ones where I live don’t) I wholeheartedly agree. They’re not dangerous to me. I just hate the little spawns of Satan and I always have.
Sometimes it feels as though they appear at the worst possible times.
Take when I was learning to drive a few years back–I’m pulling into the driveway, flip down the visor to open the garage, and what falls into my lap but a white spider. It has been all cozy and nestled in the visor, waiting to make its grand horrific entrance. Of course, I flipped my lid. I was relieved that I was already in the driveway rather than driving on the road.
Heaven forbid I’m alone in my house and I meet a spider. Such an encounter usually ends up with what I call a “barricade”–or, more simply, with me stuffing books and clothes in the crack under the door of whatever room the spider is in until someone else gets home.
I can’t deal with them myself ( unless they’re a) daddy longlegs or b) incredibly tiny, as in practically-grain-of-salt-sized tiny). Pathetic, I know. Believe me, I know I’m always one well-placed slap of a newspaper away from eliminating them…but I can’t. My blood runs cold when I see one. Most of the time, all I can do is silent-scream as I sprint away like Usain Bolt.
Anyway. Suffice it to say that the spawns of hell and I do not get along well, and that I can’t stand the sight of them–even in pictures. (Last year I accidentally ripped a page out of my psychology textbook because there was a tarantula on the page and I shoved the book away like it was the plague. Hilarity of hilarity, page was about phobias.)
I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get over my fear someday.
I doubt it, though. It’ll probably take divine intervention for it to happen.
Editorial note
The humorous descriptions are the writer’s way of expressing fear, not information about spider intentions. If a trigger appears while driving, road safety takes priority over reacting to it. A qualified professional can help assess a fear that restricts daily life; surprise images and teasing are not treatment.
An online story cannot establish a diagnosis. If fear or distress is affecting your daily life, a qualified healthcare professional can help assess it. Comments and readers’ experiences are not a substitute for individual care.