I was watching BBC Breakfast yesterday and there was a very nice lady telling me that my fear of spiders is a learned behaviour, the only true fears that babies are born with are fear of loud noises, (I seem to have got over that one, in a household with four children) and fear of falling. So, I know now that it’s perfectly rational for me to be convinced that I’m going to fall off a steep slope when I’m wearing a huge pack, but not to be absolutely terrified of spiders.
Feels the same to me though, the palpitations, the sweating palms, the shear and utter terror… Still, it’s good to know that it’s all in my mind and that I can unlearn the spider thing. Stuck with the fear of falling though…
The four little treasures and me, convinced I’m about to slide off the slope near Leathad Buide
The natural history expert sitting next to the nice lady went on to say that the season for spiders in the house was nearly over now (he wants to get himself to my place, I’ll show him a spider or two!) and that most of them were males anyway, on a kind of spider rut, their only interest being in the opposite sex, not me. Rationally, I’m sure he’s right. But if anyone were to buy me one of those spider catchers, a lidded box on a long pole, I know, in my heart of hearts, that any spider I tried to catch would vault the box, sprint up the pole and disappear up my sleeve whilst I have an apoplectic fit.
Funny thing though. I have, on occasion, woken in a tent, to find a spider peering in at me from the other side of the mesh, but I can cope. I know the big-enuff-to-see-um spider is too big to get through the no-see-um.
I still prefer them to tootle off though.
As to the whole falling off the hillside thing, David’s going to have a ball laughing at me. I might need to carry more than one spare pair of pants…