When I was about ten, my mom handed me a book from American Girl called “The Care and Keeping of You 2” and told me to talk to her if I had any questions. I proceeded to read through 96 pages of information for girls who are about to go through puberty. When I finished it, my mom asked again if I had any questions. I apparently had no trouble accepting that I would soon be shopping for bras or bleeding out of my vagina, and I had only one: “Mom, how do I know if I have an eating disorder?”
Remember that one time when I said I was occasionally going to blog about things other than aerial? Yeah, I lied. Even my non-aerial stories are about aerial. Like this one, which is about a spider!
Today, we were practicing with the roll-up door (the building is a converted warehouse) open.
Naturally, this means some bugs are going to get in; especially in a place like South Carolina.
Last time I posted (which was way too long ago, I apologize), I wrote about how I’ve started doing exposure therapy to try to get my arachnophobia to a reasonable level. I’ve gone about five times now and there’s already been significant improvement. Because, you know, now I have a tarantula in my trunk. And another in my purse, cause why have only one spider when you’re deathly afraid of them, right?
But, before I get too far ahead of myself, let’s back up and start from the beginning.
I’m afraid of spiders. Like, really afraid of spiders. Like, arachnophobia is almost an understatement afraid of spiders.
I’ve been this afraid of spiders for as long as I can remember; for as long as my parents can remember, even. I’m not aware of ever having had some form of traumatic spider experience, nor can I really logically explain why I’m so afraid of them. It doesn’t matter if it’s big, small, alive, dead, across the room, on me, or even fake; if it’s a spider, I’m probably afraid of it.
So that brings me to an incident about two months ago where I woke up one morning to a spider on my bathroom door. It wasn’t huge, but it was big for me, and it took me about an hour of staring at it, trying to come up with solutions, and generally being too afraid to do anything useful before I ended up accidentally scaring it off the door, losing track of it somewhere in my bathroom, and then wasting another half hour or so trying to figure out what to do next before running to the store for spider poison and cautiously spraying it everywhere I thought it might have gone. All said and done this ordeal took up over two hours of my morning and ruined my work schedule for the week (fortunately I’m allowed to flex my time and was planning on coming in later that morning anyway).
That’s when I finally realized I needed to do something about it.