There's an Tiny Fear I Aim to Overcome. I'll Never Adore Them, but Is it Possible to at the Very Least Be Reasonable Regarding Spiders?

I am someone who believes that it is never too late to evolve. I believe you truly can train a seasoned creature, as long as the old dog is receptive and willing to learn. As long as the old dog is prepared to acknowledge when it was mistaken, and strive to be a improved version.

Alright, I confess, I am that seasoned creature. And the lesson I am trying to learn, despite the fact that I am a creature of habit? It is an major undertaking, an issue I have struggled with, repeatedly, for my whole existence. My ongoing effort … to become less scared of the common huntsman. Pardon me, all the remaining arachnid species that exist; I have to be pragmatic about my possible growth as a human. The focus must remain on the huntsman because it is imposing, in charge, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. Including on three separate occasions in the previous seven days. Within my dwelling. Though unseen, but a shudder runs through me with discomfort as I type.

It's unlikely I’ll ever reach “enthusiast” status, but I've dedicated effort to at least achieving Normal about them.

I have been terrified of spiders since I was a child (unlike other children who are fascinated by them). In my formative years, I had ample brothers around to make sure I never had to handle any myself, but I still panicked if one was obviously in the general area 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 ascended the family room partition. I “handled” with it by standing incredibly far away, practically in the adjoining space (in case it pursued me), and spraying half a bottle of bug repellent toward it. The spray failed to hit the spider, but it did reach and irritate everyone in my house.

With the passage of time, whoever I was dating or cohabiting with was, as a matter of course, the least afraid of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore tasked with handling the situation, while I emitted frightened noises and ran away. If I was on my own, my strategy was simply to leave the room, douse the illumination and try to erase the memory of its being before I had to return.

Not long ago, I was a guest at a friend’s house where there was a notably big huntsman who made its home in the sill, mostly just stationary. In order to be less scared of it, I imagined the spider as a 'girlie', a one of the girls, part of the group, just chilling in the sun and listening to us chat. This may seem extremely dumb, but it had an impact (to some degree). Put another way, making a conscious choice to become less phobic proved successful.

Regardless, I've made an effort to continue. I reflect upon all the sensible justifications not to be scared. It is a fact that huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I know they prey upon things like insect pests (my mortal enemies). It is well-established they are one of the planet's marvelous, harmless-to-humans creatures.

Yet, regrettably, they do continue to move like that. They propel themselves in the most terrifying and almost unjust way possible. The sight of their numerous appendages propelling them at that frightening pace triggers my caveman brain to kick into overdrive. They ostensibly only have eight legs, but I am convinced that increases exponentially when they are in motion.

But it is no fault of their own that they have unnerving limbs, and they have just as much right to be where I am – possibly a greater claim. I’ve found that employing the techniques of trying not to have a visceral panic reaction and run away when I see one, attempting to stay still and breathing, and deliberately thinking about their beneficial attributes, has begun to yield results.

Just because they are fuzzy entities that dart around at an alarming rate in a way that invades my dreams, does not justify they merit my intense dislike, or my girly screams. I am willing to confess when I’ve been wrong and motivated by baseless terror. It is uncertain I’ll ever attain the “scooping one into plasticware and relocating it outdoors” phase, but you never know. A bit of time remains for this seasoned learner yet.