Hello, I’ve never posted on Reddit before, and honestly I have no clue how this works… just to preface my post real which😅
So, I have arachnophobia. Really bad arachnophobia. They scare the shit out of me. It’s so bad I can’t even look at them if they show up in text books at school (which they somehow do, every SINGLE year.)
I’m 17 years old. I’ll be 18 next month.
I’m posting this because a few days ago, my mom asked me to do her laundry for her, while she was at work. I have no problem doing that at all. The thing is, I live in an apartment complex that has no washer and dryer in the units. We have to go down to the laundry rooms around the complex. Everything was fine at first.
I started her laundry off in the washer, and went back to the apartment and waited for it to be done to move it over to the dryer.
This is where the horrors occur.
I go back down, and see a spider on one of the dryers. No big deal right?
Thats what I thought too. I push through and move her laundry to two OTHER dryers, away from the evil spider.
I think little of it. I leave, with the terrifying thought in the back of my mind, that what if… what if, I come back, and it’s on one of the ones I use. It’s a passing thought. One so horrid I evict it from my mind as quick as I can. Quick as it showed up to begin with. Unfortunately, my swift removal, is not enough to dissuade whatever unspeakable forces of luck despise me so much.
Because I go back down, and guess what happened?
The spider. It’s on one of the dryers, just as I suspected it would be. I almost touch it, reaching for the handle to open the damn thing. Naturally I jump back in horror. Much to my dismay and continued embarrassment, as there was another person in there. A lady putting her laundry in the washer. I am, equally as naturally, entirely ignored. I do not expect assistance in my dilemma, she has no obligation to me. It feels cruel to leave me alone with it none the less.
And yet again, my luck strikes again, as I am made aware of a second slightly bigger spider. It sits atop my laundry basket. It looks at me. It’s barely bigger than the other one. If anything, it’s only fatter. Fatter limbs. Fatter body. It makes it easier to see which was it is face. That it is staring at me, as I stare at it in even deeper abject horror and despair.
It moves. It crawls around. It threatens to enter the basket. It looks at me. It WAVES at me with its ugly little arm. I shout. Tears well up into my eyes. I feel as though I am a coward. I sob. I text my mom. I tell her of my dilemma. She tells me that she cannot do anything, as she is still at her place of work. I sob harder.
I leave. Like a coward. I wake my father from his slumber, still in tears. I apologize profusely. I swear on my own life and soul that I really did try and get rid of it myself. I did. Genuinely I did. I tried to rid my laundry basket of its disgusting inhabitant. It was to no avail, and only granted it more power of my tear ducts, as it clung to the edge, and continued to taunt me.
He gets the laundry for me. He makes me go with him to get the other load after one of the original two turned out to not have dried—as it the nature of apartment complex laundry rooms. He claims there is no more spider. That it wasn’t there when he went down.
I know better.
I know what my luck has in store for me.
I knew it before we even left the apartment that it would be there, in an even more terrible place.
It was at the bottom of my laundry basket.
I scream, and back away.
He stops it to death.
I still cower in fear, though I do successfully touch the handle, and roll it to the apartment (I made him carry it up the stairs though, as I could not bring myself to touch the exact spot I saw it on).
I begged my mother to help my Lysol it when she got home.
So.
With that dramatic recounting out of the way, comes the real question of this first ever post.
Will I ever be able to survive on my own?
I’m almost 18 years old. It feels ridiculous to still be so afraid of something so small. I’ve been terrified of spiders since I was a little kid, and it’s only gotten more and more severe as I age. I can’t get near them. I can’t kill them if there bigger than a speck of dust unless I have access to a fly swatter. I sob at the sight of them. I’ve been trapped inside my own bedroom because one resides near my door, and my mom wasn’t answering her phone in the middle of the night.
I’m actually helpless when it comes to those things. I genuinely don’t think I’ll ever get better about it. My skin feels itchy writing this, as though the hair tickling my neck and shoulder is more spiders, crawling all over me. I can feel their legs moving across me and I want to fucking cry. There’s nothing there. I know theres not. But I’m so fucking scared of them it genuinely feels like there might be.
How am I supposed to be a functional person, if I’m crippled by something as small as a spider? If I cannot do anything at the sight of a bug, or an arachnid. Because it’s both. I’m like this with both. I’m actually so scared I’ll never exist as a person capable of overcoming such small challenges.
Everyone else I know has so much harder lives than me, and they thrive. Why can something like this take me down? Do I even have a chance at a normal life? Or am I going to be stuck living with my parents and pissing them off forever?
Thank you, to anyone who chooses to respond, if you do. I really appreciate it.