On Phobias

There is not much in the world that scares me.  I have traveled to other countries and New York City by myself.  I have gone after jobs that I was told I could not have, and was hired anyway.  I can talk on stage and while I may be nervous, I express myself well and get my point across.  I will tell anyone just about anything about myself.  I will zip-line or bungee-jump or skydive, if given the opportunity.  I like roller coasters and skis and flying, and when it comes to heights, the higher the better.

But put a tiny little creature with eight legs in front of me, and I turn into a screaming little girl.  I don't know what it is about spiders that terrify me.  Logically, I can think about it and realize that it's a little tiny bug and I can do way more to it than it can do to me.  I can psych myself up and grab a tissue or a paper towel and go after it as though I'm about to conquer my fear.  But as I get close to kill the spider, it will move or, I don't know....look at me wrong or something...and I run screaming and clutching my hands to my chest as though my life is in danger.

This morning as we were getting ready to go to church, I started to walk from my bedroom down the hallway to the kitchen.  As I was walking, I nearly ran into a medium-sized spider hanging from a web-string right smack dab in the middle of my hallway.  As I jumped back and squealed and did the "spider dance" as my husband calls it, the spider began making its way back up the web and onto the ceiling.  J. and A. were just waking up and heard the screaming slight gasp of surprise and ran out to see what was wrong.  J. is 13 and exactly like me, so she was terrified too and no help at all.  After a few minutes of ridiculousness such as me running ducking down the hallway covering my head, and me squealing as the spider dropped back down on its web, and me claiming that it was looking at me with its beady little eyes and daring me to pass beneath it, A. came to the rescue.  He's only 9, but apparently he did not get the "afraid of spiders" gene.  He  said "Oh my gosh, Mom", grabbed a tissue, and squished the eight-legged monster as though it was, well, a little tiny thing that couldn't hurt him.  I could breathe again. 

I may seem like I'm exaggerating, but I'm really not.  I really am serious when I say that spiders terrify me.  There have been a few instances when I could take care of them in an emergency, but most of the time, I melt into a puddle on the floor when it comes to spiders. I guess we all have our weaknesses.  I'm just a bit embarrassed that my weakness comes in the form of a tiny creature that I could kill with one finger if I really wanted to.  By the way, you will never see me kill a spider with one finger.  Just the thought of it sends me into the spider dance.  Ugh.