She Drives Me Crazy

Guest Blogger: Vicky Akins

I hate to admit it, but there are things I've done I'm not proud of. Some, I still continue to do, even though I know they're wrong. I don't know why I don't stop these behaviors but sometimes it seems the more I try to restrain myself, the worse I actually get. Sometimes, they're just annoying habits, like tearing at my fingernails because they tear so easily. Another one was smoking, which I finally quit doing in 2008. But others involve people.

I'm a very easygoing, down-to-earth woman. Ok, I'm a little compulsive about certain things, overly emotional and quick-tempered, but for the most part, not much bothers me. I consider myself a good judge of character and have a track record of near perfect accuracy when it comes to analyzing someone's intentions/ulterior motives. I'm also pretty tolerant of idiosyncrasies, having quite the collection of my own. But for some reason, some people just make me crazy and turn me into someone I don't like very much.

There's a woman I see every day who absolutely drives me up the wall. I don't know why, but she brings out the worst in me. Her voice, mannerisms, habits and even her physical apprearance annoy the hell out of me. She's never done anything to deserve this exceptionally horrid treatment but I can't seem to help myself. She's a great worker. When she puts her mind to accomplishing something, nothing can stop her. She's not bad to look at. I've heard others tell her she's attractive, yet I cannot bring myself to look her in the eyes and not feel anger just seething inside me. I can't explain it. I'm definitely not jealous.

I know she has a medical condition that has caused her to gain weight and I know she's very sensitive about it, but I insist on bringing it to everyone's attention and making her feel ugly. I know she's trying to fix it, but I have no patience with her and when I look at her body, I'm repulsed.

She's not a bad person. Most of the time she's very kind. Often times I've seen her put her own needs last so others' could proceed where they wanted or do things they wanted. I know she's experienced some outrageously difficult times throughout her life. But who hasn't? She doesn't seem to have much self-esteem. I've noticed she goes through stages when she seems more assertive and sure of herself but they are always short-lived. Her inconsistancy drives me insane. "

One day I found myself unable to control my anger. I stared her down and began to yell.
Pick a mood, woman!! Stop whining and feeling sorry for yourself. Stop bitching and moaning that you can't do this or that. Get off your ass and just do it!" She tried to explain that she really, really wanted to do just that, but she felt like she was struggling every day against an inner voice that fought her every effort and told her she would never be good enough.
For anyone else, I would've tried to understand, but I couldn't understand her. I would've forgiven a complete stranger for making mistakes, but I couldn't forgive her.
I've always tried to assist other people in eliminating what they consider to be their weaknesses. But I couldn't help her.

She's really no different than anyone else. She has the same emotions, experiences and the right to make mistakes as everyone. But for some unknown reason I always held her to a higher standard and expected more from her than others. For some reason I could forgive anyone's imperfections but hers. I wasn't proud of my actions. I wanted to like this woman, so I developed a plan. I made a point every day to look her in the eyes and tell her she was a beautiful person. I vowed to put all her mistakes in the past and remind myself that mistakes are lessons in disguise. They shape who we are and who we are to become. Oh, it felt like a big lie at first, I'll be honest. But with each day that passed it got easier. I'm think I'm actually starting to like her a little more. She's really not as bad as I thought she was. My anger has subsided for the most part and I've started keeping a list of things she's done that I'm proud of. Sometimes I even read it to her.

I've learned these issues don't have to be permanent. For some of us they are more work than for others but it is possible to work through them. I don't hate her like I used to. I can see her looking back at me in the mirror and see, not mistakes, but potential. I've got a way to go yet, but I think we're going to be okay.

*Just some thoughts. We're harder on ourselves than anyone else. Why is it we can forgive the mistakes of others' but not our own. Is this something only women do or are men guilty of this too? Drop me a note, give me your opinion. As always, to the 4 people who actually read this blog...thank you for your continued loyalty. You're the best!