These stories are painful to write, but I do so to show others who might suffer from the same afflictions that they are not alone. And, if you are one of them yourself, perhaps you will find the strength to get through them and live a life of stability and courage despite the demons within you.
The second-earliest memory was one of terror! She was sitting in her high chair in the farmhouse kitchen, watching her mother and aunt baking cookies, opening and closing the oven door on the old cookstove. Suddenly, she saw a movement on the tray of her high chair. A black “thing” crawled slowly toward her, one step, two steps… She screamed. She gripped the arms of the high chair and tried to back away from the “thing,” but she was trapped. She screamed again and began to cry as she screamed. Too young to speak yet, she could only watch “it” move as she franticly pushed at the tray.
Finally, her mother turned toward her, saw the black spider, shoved it off the high chair, and stepped on it. Her mother turned back toward the aunt and resumed their conversation.
She cried until her sobs became a whimper. Nobody picked her up. There was no comforting. She was left in the high chair alone to process what had happened. She couldn’t recognize the feelings that rushed through her body, but there were many.
The fear of spiders became a phobia, although she didn’t know the meaning of that word until much later.
She was sitting on the floor upstairs, playing paper dolls with her cousin. She shifted to put her “Betty Grable” paper doll near the bed. She froze in horror when she saw the spider that had crawled under her skirt next to her leg. Her cousin hadn’t noticed yet. She said nothing but got to her feet quietly, left the room, and went down the stairs trembling. A moment later, her cousin appeared and asked, “Don’t you want to play anymore?”
She said, “Ma made some cookies this morning. Want one?”She couldn’t tell anyone about her fear of spiders, especially the neighbor boys who came from nearby farms to play with her older cousin. They would be merciless in teasing, testing her fear whenever they had a chance. So, by the time her younger boy cousin was born, she had perfected her technique. When she saw a spider, she would leave quietly and go somewhere else until she was sure the spider was gone. The boys didn’t notice or even care.
When she got to high school, she tried reading an illustrated book about spiders a little each day, hoping to overcome her fear. It didn’t work. She became sweaty just looking at the drawings and had to stop. In the meantime, she continued to crawl into bed each night, covering herself with blankets and sheets, leaving only her nose exposed so that she could breathe.
She began to realize that this wasn’t her only fear! Although they weren’t as severe, 1) she became uneasy when riding or driving under an overpass like a bridge or an elevated railroad but forced herself not to cringe if she was with someone, and 2) she could not be in a lit room when it was dark outside. She had to pull the shades or close the curtains so nobody could look in.
And then everything changed!
She was a mother with a baby and a toddler. Her husband traveled for his job and was currently out of town. They lived in a lovely house in a Cleveland suburb.
It was early morning, and the sun streamed in the window as she stirred; the children were still quiet in their rooms. Sleepily, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling above her bed. A tiny spider was descending toward her face, and it was moving fast! Not thinking, she swung her arm, grabbed the spider, and crushed it in her hand. Fully awake now, she rolled over and wiped the remains on the side of the bed, dimly aware that the sunlight had brightened for just a brief moment.
What had just happened?? She had killed a spider! With her bare hand! Stunned, she got out of bed and quietly went downstairs to prepare breakfast. Soon, she heard her son padding into her room to see if she was up, then going into his baby sister’s room and rattling her crib. Hearing them laughing together, she went upstairs.
Over the next few weeks, whenever she encountered a spider, no matter the size, she either stepped on it or gleefully smacked it with her bare hand. Her phobia was GONE!
Finally, she said to herself, “Enough. I don’t need to do this anymore. It’s really over.” She began noticing that she was no longer bothered by driving under bridges and didn’t always rush to pull her shades down or close her curtains. So, phobias are connected? Weird.
Aftermath:
A few years later, her husband was transferred to the Venezuelan office of his company, and she and the children had to adapt to a tropical climate with countless cockroaches, scorpions, and spiders. Not a problem. Once, she saw a giant red spider walking along the outside balcony. She captured it under a big jar, put the cover on, and saved it to show the kids when they came home from school.
Little did she know, but her “inner” problems were just beginning….