This week my mind finally began to relax as I had convinced myself that there were no more absurdly large spiders in living in my bedroom. For a month I have been jumping out of my skin at every corner, haunted by creepy-crawly nightmares, and grinding my teeth to the bone. A cute little gecko moved in, and seeing him around made me feel confident that he was our only guest.
Last night I noticed that my gecko’s tail had fallen off–a defense mechanism when they feel threatened. Chris and I nervously joked that our little roommate probably saw a spider twice his size and his tail detached as he was sprinting away.
We went to bed and all was well until I made my way back from the bathroom at 2 am. There, standing in the doorway to my bedroom was “the beast.” Reincarnated or resurrected. Who can say?
I grabbed the designated spider-killing flip flop, and stood there rooted to the spot… too afraid to move… too afraid to kill it. All I could do was to stare, despite the fact that I didn’t want to, at his grape-sized abdomen and long, jointed legs. I would have called for Chris, but he doesn’t respond well to being woken up in the middle of the night. It’s kind of like poking a bear after it just cozied in to hibernate for the winter.
You may recall that we had a similar situation in China: https://humor2me.wordpress.com/2012/11/06/r-o-u-s/
Eventually Kinley got hungry and started crying. I was still frozen in the hall while the spider held his ground in the doorway. My maternal instincts (apparently lacking) weren’t strong enough for me to jump over the spider and run to my crying baby.
Kinely’s continued crying eventually woke Chris and the bear within. His anger proved to be productive since he channeled it in to killing the spider so he could go back in to hibernation mode. This morning he admitted that he would be too terrified to get remotely near the beast it if he were his usual self.
Although the spider was dead, I nearly had a complete metal breakdown. I had to force myself to sit down and feed my hysterical baby although I was trembling like like I had come within an inch of my life. Kinley likes to lightly skim her fingers up my neck and across my face while she’s nursing. Last night it nearly threw me in to hysterics. There were so many times I almost dumped her on the bed and ran away from her little fingers as they made spider trails up my neck and back.
I eventually went upstairs and sat in the middle of the floor. I was too afraid to be downstairs, too afraid to sit on the sofa in case there were spiders in the cushions, and too afraid to be near a wall for fear they would crawl across it and land on me. I literally think I might be going a little bit crazy. In my defense, all of my childhood nightmares were about spiders, and things seem much scarier when it’s the middle of the night. The grogginess is disorienting and suddenly your very calm, sleepy heart rate gets an unfair shot of adrenaline.
When I did eventually navigate my way back downstairs, I stepped on something soft (the ear of a stuffed animal) and literally dove into bed where I broke in to tears. Chris had assumed his usual teddy bear personality and joked with me until I could settle down enough to go to sleep.
The moral of the story is: I’m going to need some serious dental and mental work when I get home.
While this is not “the” spider, I feel it’s an accurate depiction so perhaps you can begin to understand the source of my anxiety.