“It’s just imaginery…”

Whenever I think of Halloween and fears, I can’t help but remember one of my worst recurring nightmares as a child—and the funny way it turned out.   I think it’s safe to say that I had an active imagination (yes, I see you all raising your hands… it’s a writer’s blessing and curse.)

So when I was about four or five, I started having a nightmare — every night, for about three weeks.  In my nightmare, there was a big spider on my ceiling, slowing descending toward my bed. It was going to eat me.  I knew it.  Every night when I woke up screaming for my parents, that’s what I told them.

Now, when I’m talking about a big spider, I don’t mean a measly tarantula.  I’m not even talking about the Goliath Birdeater tarantula —and because I’m nice, I decided NOT to include a photo of said really, really, REALLY big spider.  If you want to see for yourself, here you go.  (But really, anything bug sized with the name birdeater? Yeah. Not messing with that.)

Anyway…  my 4-year old imagination came up with something even bigger.  It was about as ugly at the Goliath Birdeater, but it wasn’t a foot long — it was a ceiling long.  That’s right, this thing measured wall to wall, covering my entire ceiling with it’s hairy, spindly legs, its big huge fangs and …yeah, ick.

So night after night, this spider visited my nightmares.  Began its descent toward my bed.  Night after night, I screamed for my parents.

And finally, one night, my beleaguered, exhausted father got a little tired of trying to tell me it was just a nightmare.  (Can’t say I blame him now that I’m a parent… sleep is a precious commodity.)  So he might have raised his voice a bit when he told me repeatedly that it was my imagination, it was an IMAGINERY spider (said very slowly, with very little patience remaining.) So, in my most indignant 4 year old tone, I told him to take an imaginary gun and shoot it.

He did.

And I can happily say, we all got a lot more sleep after that night.  Big, hairy and unwelcome never returned.

And yep… to this day, really not a fan of spiders.  What about you?

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About Jeannie Ruesch

Jeannie Ruesch is an author of historical romantic suspense, a graphic designer, a mom and an avid fan of popcorn. Her next book, CLOAKED IN DANGER, comes out January 27, 2014— “...larger-than-life characters, a vivid and believable setting, heart-pounding romance and just the right amount of mystery. Don’t miss it! It kept me reading deep into the night.” — New York Times Bestselling Author Brenda Novak

11 thoughts on ““It’s just imaginery…”

    • I think it made a difference that my dad played along… he knew it was real in my imagination, so that’s where it had to be resolved. Nightmares went away, that’s for sure! Until the witch at the pumpkin patch told me to be afraid of witches with green socks… (she wore red.)…

  1. My daughter told me ghosts live in her shoe rack and come out at night to try to eat her. But she said if she stays under her covers they can’t get her. So she solved that issue herself. 😉

  2. My lifelong arachnophobia started when I woke up one morning to find an actual spider dangling over my face. It probably was a quarter of an inch across, including the legs, but of course in my mind it was GINORMOUS. And hairy, which it wasn’t. Love the fact that your dad shot yours. (When he was a wee tot, my partner had an experience like yours with a witch’s face in his bedroom window. All that was required was his mother rushing to the window yelling “shoo!” She had to do it every night for a while, but eventually the witch got the message.)

  3. Oh I despise spiders. DESPISE them *shudder* The smaller ones (and most daddy long legs) I can kill on my own. But a big nasty wolf spider ran across my floor the other night and I called my husband (I was downstairs, he was upstairs, asleep lol) to have him come kill it for me. Anything that runs AT me instead of away from me…..yeah, that takes muscles more manly than mine LOL

  4. LOL. I literally laughed out loud reading that. I had horrible dreams of bugs eating me as a child, so I can relate. Unfortunately, my parents didn’t think of an imaginary gun or even an imaginary can of Raid. So they remained sleep deprived for a year or so (yes…year! I’m reminded often.)

    Michelle 🙂

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