I had an encounter with a spider today and it ended poorly for the both of us. I reckon the spider got the worse part of the deal as it now resides in a landfill, and is deceased at that. I, for better or worse, will go on with the memory fresh enough to be unsettling for the better part of the next few days.
Of the many movie advertisements I saw as a youth, none stood out in my head so much as the one for Arachnophobia. Even now I feel a deep, unsettled feeling just thinking about the film, one I never saw. I recall my parents renting it. I did not go near the living room that night.
As I write this in a room I have written in many nights over the past few years, every shadow has taken a hideous change. This house was once sacred, untouched by fairly large spiders with legs still twitching as it lay their in the last moments of its life.
The inability to move, the difficulty of breath, none of these things are attractive or desirable. I only feel a sense of shame now that the event has passed. The only thing changing is the spider’s size gets larger in my head each time I pause for a second to look around the room to see if another one is here.
Where does the fear come from? And what is it exactly of? The surprise is one thing. It is hard to be unaware of a dog, but an insect or a spider can just “be there” after it was not for so long. But once the initial shock of the spider is done and over with, what is going to happen? I am giving an immense amount of power to something that can only do little to me, and not that much to begin with.