Here's an Minuscule Phobia I Aim to Overcome. Fandom is Out of Reach, but Is it Possible to at Least Be Calm Regarding Spiders?

I am someone who believes that it is never too late to change. I think you truly can teach an old dog new tricks, provided that the old dog is open-minded and ready for growth. So long as the old dog is ready to confess when it was wrong, and work to become a better dog.

Alright, I confess, I am that seasoned creature. And the trick I am working to acquire, despite the fact that I am a creature of habit? It is an important one, something I have struggled with, repeatedly, for my all my days. My ongoing effort … to grow less fearful of huntsman spiders. Pardon me, all the different eight-legged creatures that exist; I have to be grounded about my potential for change as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is imposing, dominant, and the one I run into regularly. Encompassing a trio of instances in the recent past. In my own living space. You can’t see me, but I’m shaking my head and grimacing as I type.

I doubt I’ll ever reach “admirer” status, but my project has been at least achieving Normal about them.

I have been terrified of spiders from my earliest years (as opposed to other children who adore them). Growing up, I had plenty of male siblings around to make sure I never had to handle any myself, but I still became hysterical if one was clearly in the immediate vicinity as me. Vividly, I recall of one morning when I was eight, my family still asleep, and attempting to manage a spider that had ascended the lounge-room wall. I “dealt” with it by standing incredibly far away, nearly crossing the threshold (in case it pursued me), and discharging a significant portion of bug repellent toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it succeeded in affecting and irritate everyone in my house.

With the passage of time, whomever I was in a relationship with or living with was, by default, the least afraid of spiders between us, and therefore in charge of managing the intruder, while I emitted frightened noises and ran away. If I was on my own, my tactic was simply to leave the room, douse the illumination and try to forget about its being before I had to re-enter.

Not long ago, I stayed at a companion's home where there was a very large huntsman who made its home in the window frame, for the most part lingering. In order to be more comfortable with its presence, I imagined the spider as a her, a gal, in our circle, just lounging in the sun and overhearing us yap. It sounds quite foolish, but it was effective (to some degree). Put another way, the deliberate resolution to become less phobic proved successful.

Whatever the case, I've made an effort to continue. I reflect upon all the logical reasons not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders won’t harm me. I recognize they prey upon things like buzzing nuisances (my mortal enemies). I know they are one of the world's exquisite, benign creatures.

Alas, they do continue to walk like that. They move in the utterly horrifying and borderline immoral way conceivable. The vision of their numerous appendages carrying them at that alarming velocity causes my ancient psyche to go into high alert. They claim to only have the typical arachnid arrangement, but I am convinced that triples when they are in motion.

But it is no fault of their own that they have scary legs, and they have an equal entitlement to be where I am – possibly a greater claim. I have discovered that employing the techniques of trying not to immediately exit my own skin and retreat when I see one, working to keep composed and breathing steadily, and intentionally reflecting about their positive qualities, has actually started to help.

Simply due to the reality that they are furry beings that scuttle about with startling speed in a way that haunts my sleep, is no reason for they merit my intense dislike, or my shrieks of terror. I am willing to confess when I’ve been wrong and driven by irrational anxiety. I’m not sure I’ll ever make it to the “scooping one into plasticware and taking it outside” stage, but you never know. Some life is left for this seasoned learner yet.