There's an Itsy-Bitsy Anxiety I Want to Conquer. Fandom is Out of Reach, but Can I at Least Be Normal Regarding Spiders?
I firmly hold the belief that it is forever an option to evolve. I think you absolutely are able to teach an old dog new tricks, as long as the old dog is receptive and eager for knowledge. As long as the old dog is willing to admit when it was mistaken, and work to become a more enlightened self.
Alright, I confess, I am the old dog. And the trick I am working to acquire, although I am set in my ways? It is an major undertaking, an issue I have struggled with, often, for my entire life. The quest I'm on … to grow less fearful of those large arachnids. Apologies to all the other spiders that exist; I have to be realistic about my potential for change as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is imposing, commanding, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. Encompassing three times in the recent past. Within my dwelling. I'm not visible to you, but I’m shaking my head with discomfort as I type.
I doubt I’ll ever reach “admirer” status, but I've dedicated effort to at least achieving Normal about them.
I have been terrified of spiders from my earliest years (in contrast to other children who adore them). In my formative years, I had ample brothers around to guarantee I never had to engage with any personally, but I still freaked out if one was clearly in the same room as me. I have a strong memory of one morning when I was eight, my family unconscious, and facing the ordeal of a spider that had crawled on to the family room partition. I “handled” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, practically in the adjoining space (in case it ran after me), and spraying half a bottle of pesticide toward it. The chemical cloud missed the spider, but it managed to annoy and disturb everyone in my house.
With the passage of time, whomever I was in a relationship with or sharing a home with was, by default, the most courageous of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore in charge of handling the situation, while I produced whimpers of distress and beat a hasty retreat. If I was on my own, my tactic was simply to vacate the area, douse the illumination and try to erase the memory of its existence before I had to enter again.
Not long ago, I was a guest at a companion's home where there was a particularly sizable huntsman who lived in the sill, mostly just stationary. In order to be less fearful, I conceptualized the spider as a female entity, a gal, part of the group, just lounging in the sun and listening to us gab. Admittedly, it appears rather silly, but it had an impact (to some degree). Put another way, actively deciding to become less phobic proved successful.
Be that as it may, I’ve tried to keep it up. I reflect upon all the sensible justifications not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders won’t harm me. I recognize they eat things like buzzing nuisances (my mortal enemies). I know they are one of the planet's marvelous, benign creatures.
Alas, they do continue to walk like that. They propel themselves in the utterly horrifying and almost unjust way possible. The sight of their numerous appendages propelling them at that alarming velocity triggers my primordial instincts to enter panic mode. They claim to only have a standard octet of limbs, but I maintain that triples when they move.
However it isn’t their fault that they have frightening appendages, and they have just as much right to be where I am – possibly a greater claim. My experience has shown that taking the steps of making an effort to avoid have a visceral panic reaction and run away when I see one, trying to remain composed and breathing steadily, and consciously focusing about their positive qualities, has actually started to help.
Simply due to the reality that they are fuzzy entities that scuttle about with startling speed in a way that haunts my sleep, is no reason for they merit my intense dislike, or my girly screams. It is possible to acknowledge when fear has clouded my judgment and motivated by unfounded fear. It is uncertain I’ll ever attain the “trapping one under a cup and escorting it to the garden” phase, but one can't be sure. A bit of time remains within this veteran of life yet.