When I was a little girl my house was infested with roaches. This went on for about a few weeks or so. My parents tried to fix the situation themselves knowing little about how bad the infestation truly was. It had gotten so bad, that I had a roach crawl up my arm when I was brushing my teeth.
I’ve never forgotten that. The whole situation traumatized me so bad that to this day I can’t kill a roach. I have to hype myself up to do it and even then I can’t do it. They are so ugly and crunchy. I hate the crunch and I hate picking them up.
I know that it’s just a bug, but to me, it’s more. I still search my bathroom every day for roaches and my bedroom sometimes. The only other bug that freaks me out are those large mosquitoes that fly in during the summer time. That is the only reason I hate the summer time. I literally refuse to open the door after 8 p.m. because I know they will fly in.
The sad part is they always try to come at you. Why? Why can’t they stay outside? The only bugs I leave alive are spiders. They kill the other bugs. I have watched them in action. We get pretty big spiders in the house, but they don’t bother me. I sometimes actually name them.
But every time I see a roach my OCD kicks in. I spray so much Raid and go to sleep anxious. I don’t want to see another one. I’m surprised I don’t have my exterminator on speed-dial. Is that still a thing? Anyway, his number is not in my phone.
But in short, I don’t do roaches. I will run away and live in a new house before I kill it. It’s that serious for me.