Arachnophobia is defined as "Extreme or irrational fear of spiders" Depending on who you ask I may be defined as a sufferer of this condition. Okay, okay, most people you ask probably will. Unless they have never seen me encounter one. Wait... we live in Florida. Even strangers have seen me encounter one.
I display some very entertaining behavior on these occasions. Let's see, if the spider just jumps out of nowhere I emit a loud "OOOOwwwwoooah" sound as I leap away slapping myself. (not sure why the slapping helps but it does). Then I scream for anyone nearby I perceive as a rescuer. (at this point my husband usually hears his name shrieked out, and he has learned to just look where I am pointing and kill it fast) If I just happen to see it sitting there, my eyes narrow and I began to search for a weapon, (this could be anything.... stick, underarm deodorant, hairspray, spray paint, brooms are always good but not always handy, shoes, you get the picture) all the while keeping my eye on said spider just in case it tries to launch an attack first. Once I have a clear shot I pound it, vocalizing with each strike "die!...die!... It sounds horrible I know but this continues until it is a smear and no longer even resembles a spider. Now if on the rare occasion one gets on me or I am trapped with one I think will get on me... Well, just get out of the way. Those who witness this always wish after it is over they had the presence of mind to grab a video camera. Of course they sit spell bound as it is happening because it is like a train wreck. You can't look away. There are screams, frantic limbs flailing, things breaking, sometimes I just run and run not even knowing where I am going. Please be advised. Never, and I do mean Never, touch me if I am in this particular situation. I am in another place and in that place you cannot convince me that anything that touches me is not a spider. I claim no responsibility for my actions. Now I will explain how this all started.
I did not always suffer from this condition. I was usually a pretty fearless kid. (not always a good trait) This particular fear was thrust upon me at the age of 10... Some of you may remember a school item called a "Trapper Keeper". It was like a binder but had a flap that closed your folders in all nice and neat. I had a pretty one. It was made by Lisa Frank, so therefore was bright and colorful and probably had a rainbow horse on it. It was for this particular item that had me searching in my toy box. (I am not sure why it was in there) I got all the way to the bottom and noticed a brown piece of moss in the corner. I grabbed it to throw it away. It came alive and transformed right before my eyes into the biggest, hairiest spider I had ever seen. I stood frozen in horror as it plunged whatever served as teeth to the creature into the middle finger of my right hand. In a knee jerk reaction I threw my hand up to shake it off. As I am looking at my poor finger on the verge of a panic, I discover where the thing landed. I felt as it exited my hair and entered my neckline. It felt like an eternity before it got to my arm and crawled down to my leg. Down my leg it crawled and as it left my foot I stood there, blanched and frozen. I would not accept what my mind was telling me. That could not have just happened. Why couldn't I move? Did the bite paralyze me?
Nope... I stayed in that spot for a while emitting scream after scream still holding my bitten finger aloft. The terror I felt I still can't explain but I sure can remember, and the only way of expressing it was screaming at the top of my lungs. My mother came so fast I think she may of hurt herself. (the things I put this poor woman through) I remember her asking me frantically what happened. I tried so hard to tell her, truthfully I did, but I could not talk while screaming. I must have screamed in her face about a dozen or more times holding the finger that was bitten up in a vain attempt to show her and make her understand. I cannot imagine what she was thinking at that moment. She did however remain calm. (which was unusual... I think that was the only time I showed panic of that magnitude so we reversed roles) Finally after what seemed forever I was able to communicate what happened in short words. "spider.... bit me.... crawled all over me.... (scream)... bit me..."
My mother then went on a hunt for the horrid thing. She finally found it, bagged it and went for the Family Medical Journal next. She did some fast research while glancing at the bagged spider periodically. I am still standing there holding my finger, and managing to cry now instead of scream. The book slams shut and she comes toward me trying to hide the spider. I am instructed to keep my hand below my heart and follow her. Panic begins to flow again as I follow her with my hand as low as I can have it and still manage to walk.
My mother drove with a madness to the hospital. Obediently keeping my hand on the floor of the car, I turn to my mother with teary eyes and ask, "Mom.... am I going to die?" Honesty was not appreciated. "I don't know honey... I don't know...." Well I was pretty certain these were my final moments.
At the hospital they identified my mother's bagged specimen as non poisonous but one that had a painful bite. That day was probably the most traumatizing day of my life. (and I have had my share of those) It was that day, and that spider that doomed every spider I was ever to meet in the future.
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