I was about 18 and I was in what my family calls "the cold room" which was named according to the simple fact that it is always cold in there. This particular day I was trying to aid my mother in organizing our house little bit and I decided that the cold room needed some attention. Though it is not a very large room, about 5' x 5' in area, it was full of children's goodies (books and toys mostly) just tossed carelessly about the place. In order to organize this room, which smelled quite dank due to the sewer pipe access located just under the carpet in the middle of the floor, I had to duck under the 5' high door frame multiple times as I sought to remove every item from the room. As the floor became more and more visible, I noticed that there was a small crack between the wall and the carpet. Now, because the cold room is in the corner of our basement, it is not uncommon to discover many different types of tiny multiple legged beings crawling into the house through cracks in the foundation. Bugs are not my favourite things, and they likely never will be. As I lifted a book from the corner, I caught a glimpse of twenty or so tiny-but-larger-than-expected legs reaching out across the carpet from the crack at the bottom of the wall and I decided that I needed someone else to help me clear out the rest of the room. Enter 8 year old Daniel. Before you assume that I am a terrible big sister, I did tell him about the giant centipede legs prior to his entrance to the room to commence continued removal of the goodies. He behaved as any nervous person would and kept a close watch on the corner where I had spotted the centipede while he bravely picked up toys and handed them out to me. Then I saw something on the wall outside the cold room that caused me to scream involuntarily. My poor little brother interpreted my scream as "OH NO! THERE'S THE CENTIPEDE!" (which was not what I had intended to communicate) and he leaped out of the room with tears streaming down his face. My scream was solely in response to a spider (my irrational fear) so I quickly apologized and directed his attention toward the beast. He quickly wiped away his tears, grabbed a book and killed the spider on my behalf.
I am thankful that my brothers are brave and also willing to rescue me from spiders because I literally just can't even. If I see one I'm instantly either frozen, jumping, shaking, screaming, or a combination of those reactions. The rational thinking portion of my brain turns off and I search for a way out of the situation. Either I call out for help from the nearest human being, run away, or just sit and stare at the spider if it is in my room because I don't want to lose track of it lest it sneak up on me again later.
Other people have found this fear of mine to be rather entertaining as they have watched my various reactions to spider encounters, some of which they have initiated. I try not to hold grudges and Jesus has forgiven me so I have since forgiven these people for intentionally taking advantage of me (some multiple times) and then making fun of me for "overreacting." I don't consider it an overreaction because I don't react intentionally. My body kicks into flight mode and that's that. And no, it doesn't matter how big the spider is. They all have the same effect. But I think I'm getting better at reacting less or at least appropriately given the circumstances.
Just yesterday morning at about 6:30am (most of my family is still sleeping at this time) I was just about to turn on the water to shower when a spider crawled out of the drain. I gasped and leaped out of the tub and thought about what to do. I considered waking up Alexander because his room was about 20ft away and he would probably respond the fastest, but then I thought that would be rude. So without waking up anybody else, I thought of my own solution that would keep me a reasonable distance away from the creep. Don't judge me too harshly but I drowned it in the tub, running the water for an extra five minutes after it went down the drain just to make sure it didn't come back up. I later that day told my dad about my dilemma and mentioned that I had considered waking someone up to help me and he said, "Well it's a good thing you didn't get me because I hate those things too!"
My closest friends have told me that I need to marry someone that isn't afraid of spiders. I agree.
I am thankful that my brothers are brave and also willing to rescue me from spiders because I literally just can't even. If I see one I'm instantly either frozen, jumping, shaking, screaming, or a combination of those reactions. The rational thinking portion of my brain turns off and I search for a way out of the situation. Either I call out for help from the nearest human being, run away, or just sit and stare at the spider if it is in my room because I don't want to lose track of it lest it sneak up on me again later.
Other people have found this fear of mine to be rather entertaining as they have watched my various reactions to spider encounters, some of which they have initiated. I try not to hold grudges and Jesus has forgiven me so I have since forgiven these people for intentionally taking advantage of me (some multiple times) and then making fun of me for "overreacting." I don't consider it an overreaction because I don't react intentionally. My body kicks into flight mode and that's that. And no, it doesn't matter how big the spider is. They all have the same effect. But I think I'm getting better at reacting less or at least appropriately given the circumstances.
Just yesterday morning at about 6:30am (most of my family is still sleeping at this time) I was just about to turn on the water to shower when a spider crawled out of the drain. I gasped and leaped out of the tub and thought about what to do. I considered waking up Alexander because his room was about 20ft away and he would probably respond the fastest, but then I thought that would be rude. So without waking up anybody else, I thought of my own solution that would keep me a reasonable distance away from the creep. Don't judge me too harshly but I drowned it in the tub, running the water for an extra five minutes after it went down the drain just to make sure it didn't come back up. I later that day told my dad about my dilemma and mentioned that I had considered waking someone up to help me and he said, "Well it's a good thing you didn't get me because I hate those things too!"
My closest friends have told me that I need to marry someone that isn't afraid of spiders. I agree.
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