No matter where you go, people agree: bugs should be rounded up and killed, and they would be if they weren’t so damn useful and amazing.
I am not a fan of bugs. I think they’re amazing in a cold, scientific way, but if they could all die without adverse effects on the planet and its flora and fauna, I would be happy. Once, when Boyfriend and I first started dating, I saw a spider on the ceiling of his bedroom and squeaked, “Onoes boyfwend a buggie-bug!” Bear in mind I’ve sparred with men more than twice my weight with two feet of height on me. Boyfriend was delighted to see a clearly very vulnerable killing machine of a girlfriend, and came to my rescue armed with a tissue. Thank you, Boyfriend.
Here are two emails I sent him on May 29th at 1130pm when he was out of town for a couple of weeks:
BOYFRIEND THERE’S A SPIDER! It’s on the table, and it’s coming over here gaaaaaaaaaaaah!!
I blew on it. It went away. I think it’s on the floor.
Crap I can’t find it. BOYFRIEND THERE’S A SPIDER.
15 minutes later:
Calico found it, she’s attacking it. She stopped. She keeps smelling it and watching it walk away. JUST EAT IT GAH it’s under my chair! WHY ISN’T IT DEAD YET.
Wait, did she just eat it? Haha yeah, she ate it. Good kitty.
I have recently come to a horrifying realization: There will always be a spider. So I either have to always have to have a spider-killer around (Teacher Roommate fills that role when Boyfriend isn’t around), or I’ll have to get brave enough to face my fear of crawling things.
Boyfriend it is.
Side note: DO NOT Google “huge spider” if you want to sleep this week.
I’m occasionally attacked by giant, imaginary bugs.
At first I thought it was a recurring nightmare. Then I thought it was a night terror, but I have vivid memories of them every time.
I’m also usually awake. Which makes them hallucinations. Right?
I’ve experienced this about… no more than 8 times I guess. The first time was more than a year ago, and I can’t remember when the last time was.
Here’s how it goes, every time: I’m lying in bed on my back. I’ve been asleep at least a couple hours. I look up at the ceiling, and there’s a huge, spindly bug with black and neon coloring (red, yellow, or green) descending slowly toward me. It’s not more conscious than other bugs, but its intent is to land on me and do something (I’m not sure what, I just don’t want this thing landing on my fucking face, which is exactly where it’s always heading).
The first few times I saw one, I just hid under the blanket, terrified. After a minute of cowering, I would venture a glance and it would be gone. Or I would wake up Boyfriend and frantically ask if there was a bug. Of course, there wasn’t.
My first encounter with these, I saw about three in a month, maybe more. Those were the most terrifying. All I could do was hide and pray each one would go away.
Later, as I got frustrated by my terror and hiding like a baby, I tried swatting at them. This didn’t actually produce any change; they were always out of reach, even if I waited a second or two for them to get closer (which I only remember doing once, because who the fuck would let this thing get any closer than it already was?). It was getting closer, just never within reach somehow. After the futile swatting, the hiding commences.
Naturally, all this thrashing would scare the shit out of Boyfriend who would wake up expecting me to be on fire.
That brings us to another part of this: Boyfriend. He’s always there when this happens. This has never happened without him sleeping next to me. He knows now to immediately comfort me and tell me there are no bugs, they’re not real, it was just a dream.
I have no idea what causes these hallucinations. I wasn’t taking any drugs, not even birth control at the time. And why bugs? I don’t have any phobias… at all. I mean, no one likes bugs, but not everyone has hallucinations about them, so… wtf?
I’m gonna have to draw one at some point, if I can. They don’t make any noise, so I don’t know how I know when one’s there, nor how they move so slowly through the air (no batting wings, no threads). They just drift, and that’s part of what makes them so scary.
Edit: Aaaaaand of course, what’s spinning its invisible threads just above the surface of my bathroom sink this morning? A HUGE fucking daddy long legs. Literally the largest I’ve ever seen. Its legs hit the wall at least two inches apart. That fucker was enormous.