Showing posts with label phobia spiders scared. Show all posts
Showing posts with label phobia spiders scared. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Scared Silly - A Confession

I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that there's one thing that absolutely scares the beejeebers out of me.
This fear is so great that even the word bothers me. The the sight of it paralyzes me. A mere photo creates such anxiety that I couldn't even post one in this blog.
I consider myself a logical person. Level headed and intelligent. I have overcome much in my lifetime. I have undertaken projects that aren't for the faint of heart. I have actually watched a filmed autopsy without flinching. What is this phobia? The thing that horrifyingly nauseates me, renders this able-bodied, independent woman to a lily-livered coward??............... spiders. Just typing that brought water to my mouth.
I've always thought my ideal home would be in a country setting, with acres of land and stable for horses. Of course in this dream I am independently wealthy and employ a team of Insect Assassins.
Once when I was first married and my husband was working out of town, I was getting ready for bed and spotted 'one' on the bedroom wall. As expected, arachnophobia prevents me from getting close enough to kill it (like I would want to anyway??) I sat and watched it........... for hours. I knew I couldn't sleep in the same room.. GOD No! I couldn't leave the room... it would disappear and be creeping through the house somewhere and I'd have to sell and move. So I sat and watched. Eventually, after a few good shoe tosses from across the room, I managed to slay the beast, got the shovel from the garage and walked it outside to the curb. Even now in my home I am the head of the house, but by no means the fearless one. My courageous youngest daughter does the deed. The sad thing is, if Nadia's not around, myself and my other daughter, (another arachnophobic) are doomed.
House protocol states that when the monster is exterminated, it must be taken outside, at the very least, disposed of in the toilet which must be flushed at least twice. At work, after the guys chase me around the office with it, I make them flush it in the men's toilet.
As I sit and type this, I have the feeling of something creeping up my legs. It's terrible.
I know, I'm gutless. I would feel so much better if I were afraid of something substantial; large man-eating snakes or crocks, maybe large sewer rats. But they just don't bother me at all. Will I ever conquer this fear? I doubt it. I'd gladly trade it for doughnutaphobia (?)
Perhaps I suffer from just plainwierdaphobia.