I live in Australia, have done my whole life, and our spiders are no joke. I've had a bunch of really nasty spider encounters (including my baby cousin almost dying from a bite), but the worst, the one that started my arachnophobia, happened when I was 4. I woke up with a spider mostly on my face. I say mostly, because it was actually bigger than my face, the legs formed a cage around my head, the fangs level with my eyes. I was completely paralyzed with fear, and couldn't have shouted for help even if I wanted to, for fear of it crawling into my mouth. As if it would even fit. All I could do was shut my eyes and wait.
I want to make 3 things quite clear;
I'd set an alarm to wake myself up in time to see the sunrise; 4:30am in Summer. It was a Saturday morning and my parents would be sleeping in until at least 10, and were unlikely to wake me when they did wake up. There was no chance of rescue for hours.
I was completely unable to move, even a millimetre. I couldn't even twitch or blink to scare it off my face.
That fucker did not move. It was like it knew the position it was in was the scariest possible position and wouldn't shift from it. That's not to say it didn't move at all, it shifted its' legs, lurched back and forth, a constant reminder of my terrible fate.
So, 4:30am I woke with this fucking acromantula on my face. It wasn't until 9:30am that it started to move. Five fucking hours. I know this because that fucking alarm clock went off again every 15 minutes, giving me a brief hint of hope that someone, anyone would hear the alarm and come to save me. When it finally moved it did so incredibly slowly, taunting me, making sure I felt every movement of its' legs across my face. At one point it scuttled backwards, back towards its' previous position. The fucker was playing with me. It took extra care to settle on my favourite teddy bear for a while, ensure that I would never be able to play wiht it again. Finally, it crept away and onto a wall, and I sprang into action, jumping halfway across the room in one bound, screaming for my parents. I woke them just as their 10am alarm was going off. Five and a half hours this ordeal had lasted.
My Dad did kill the spider, but it took weeks before I built up the courage to enter that room again, and months before I could sleep there. I started using a nightlight and didn't stop until I was 12, because I'd heard that spiders were scared of light. Fifteen years later, I still can't even look at pictures of spiders without crying from fears. I have a severe phobia that often interferes with my life.
Fucking spiders man. They'll ruin your life.