MANILA, Philippines - Unlike most people with a persistent, irrational fear of specific things or situations, I never had a clear idea as to how my aversion to spiders began. It just sort of happened when I was young. I would get agitated and anxious whenever I was in a “situation” with one of those eight-legged creatures. Through the years, it got worse. It became a fright that completely took hold of me, affecting my daily life immensely.
Blood rushes to my head, my heart skips a beat, I’d take off from wherever I was with reckless abandon, in order to create as much space as possible between the creature and me.
The hardest part was when it was over — that would mean a crushed, dismembered spider. A feeling my mother, and my wife know so well. They slay spiders for me.
The term arachnophobia best describes the condition. But, I think it’s a bit unfair to the rest of the arthropods of the same arachnid class: scorpions, mites, ticks — for I don’t find them as fearful as the spiders.
I am fascinated by snakes, and have always been called upon to flush one out if found in the house. I can grab roaches by the hand if I have to, or stomp on a large rat. I try to keep my distance from unpleasant-looking dogs but that’s because one bit me. I imagine that I’d punch a shark on its nose if it attacks me. I’ve eaten live octopus straight out of the sea.
I have childhood memories of engaging in spider fights. I was around nine years old, and our backyard had several full-grown trees where we would hunt for the talisains and dangkawans at night. I’d even join a small group of friends who would scour fields of neighboring barangays for pedigreed spiders. Of course, I created my own spider condo units made of matchboxes and Popsicle sticks, where I’d nourish my lot.
The funny thing is that I remember developing the fear at the same time.
My father, who never really grasped how serious my fear was, caught a large brown spider in my room. And, that scared the hell out of me and my siblings.
Feeding off my fear, my siblings teased me about it, going as far as placing the bag with the spider at the end of a pole and chasing me with it.
Spider fighting among kids has the element of excitement and fun, which easily negates everything else, including my fear, in a child’s world.
The common house spider has this uncanny nature of suddenly appearing in a chilling fashion. It does not help that it looks at you with its eight beady eyes, and moves quickly in any direction. If it happens to be the humongous, hairy type, the encounter becomes morbid — at least for me.
My mom was my main support person, taking the role of spider slayer without prejudice.
I learned my lesson the hard way. I had to open a door first, observe if there was a spider in the room, and only enter when I was sure. If I become aware of the threat ahead of time, I devised a contingency route: I would pay my grandfather a visit, their house being a block away from ours, chat with him for a while, then excuse myself for needing to go to the toilet. It worked for several years, until he passed away.
As a teenager who loved rock-and-roll, my room was fodder for disorder. I drew and painted a lot back then, my works were strewn around, along with my clothing and other stuff.
There was one day when I was seated on the edge of the bed, strumming my guitar, belting out Beatles hits. All of a sudden, from the far end of the bed, a spider appeared, crawling in frenzy towards me. Or it must have been me that was in frenzy: I tossed my beloved guitar as I rolled away from my position. I hit the floor running, banging my head on the doorpost, but I still managed to squirm past the spider.
More than the pain of the bruises, I remember my fright. I slept on the sofa, for a few weeks, after that.
On another occasion, I went hiking with my girlfriend and her friends. I was out to impress everybody with my outdoor skills. Everything was fine until we had to pick papaya from the tree. As I turned one on its stalk, a robust, black spider scampered out of the clump. Suddenly, a sixth sense was awakened in me, I could see them all: along the branches, among the leaves, on the blades of grass... on every tree.
Fear has Worsened
I believe that my fear has worsened. When I got married, I knew that the new dwelling would still present situations that I dreaded.
The events have been few and far between, but they only solidified my belief that I can never escape the fear. My wife understood her role in relation to my condition, albeit with a big sacrifice on her own belief and ethics. She has not been as ruthless in killing spiders as my mother was.
In the past year, my encounters turned fever pitch. My “good” friends, the humungous spiders, would appear whenever I’m alone in the house.
One time, after a shower I saw a big, brown spider in the corner of the computer screen. I ran out of the house with only towel covering me, wearing a single slipper. I went back in after some deliberation, got the insect killer and summoned all my will power for half an hour before I got within six feet of the computer screen. When I blasted away, my finger was firmly pressed down on the sprayer, not pausing for a single moment. It seemed to paralyze the spider in place, and it definitely put a shiny coat of chemicals all over the screen. By the time the spider moved, my wife came in and finished the job.
Watching the Animal Planet’s feature on My Extreme Animal Phobia, I’m reminded of how abnormal and irrational this disorder has become for sufferers. The show helps people who fear animals cope, and eventually, get rid of the fear. It seems that the fear can be conquered by simply engaging it head on, but it can really get overwhelming to even think about it.
Ultimately, the show demonstrates how liberating it will be to let healing take place. I cringe at the thought of going through the same method, but it allows me to think this worst feeling might only be in my head. I know it’s much easier to write this than actually say, much less do it, but I wish I could be healed.
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Many desperate adults turn to the Anxiety Treatment Center of Sacramento, run by psychologist Dr. Robin Zasio. In My Extreme Animal Phobia, meet several people with unusual phobias that are disrupting their lives.
In each hour-long episode, three people embark on a five-day, live-in course of intensive exposure therapy. They achieve remarkable results to beat the fear that has taken a firm grip on their lives.
My Extreme Animal Phobia premieres on Animal Planet on Tuesday at 11 p.m. starting Feb. 7 and encores every Saturday at 4 p.m.