Double takes in comedy portray hilarious, out of the ordinary items or moments that need to be seen twice to fully devour the irony of a situation. Double takes in magic express fascination at the unthinkable: one minute there, the next minute gone, mind reading illusions that are beyond simple comprehension. And then, there are those moments of double takes where something so outlandish happens in life you have to stop your busy brain, put down your phone, and take it all in.
Today, I want to take you through a couple different double takes, one happened instantly while the other took a year of being lost to finally have it all click.
Turn lemons into....?
My first double take is comedic in nature, and sparks curiosity into those with a juvenile spirit... aka myself.
A year ago today (thanks Facebook Memories) I had been out with my ex... The one that I never actually dated.. For six months. Go ahead, roll your eyes. I did it just typing this.
Anyways, in his attempt to regain footing with me he invited me to go out with him and have drinks. I was off the next day (I got called in by the way; 3 whole hours of sleep later), so I decided to go for it. Honestly, there's not much to report about the night out. There was, however, a double take moment when we spotted this:
Go ahead. Take it all in.
That, my friends, is a peeled lemon. *cue the double take* This bar isn't a fancy bar, more like an updated pub. Not much food sold, drinks aren't that fancy, and the music was Childish Gambino on the giant projector. You get the picture.
So, why the peeled lemon? That was the question at hand. They didn't seem to garnish any drinks, the food wasn't fancy enough to need any shaved peeling, and there wasn't some weird type of competition going on. I'm sure there's some reasonable explanation to why they have a lemon peeled right there on the counter, but honestly in the moment we just thought it was the most odd thing to see. I had never seen a lemon peeled before! My friends agree I often have the mind of a 12 year old boy, so that comes into play here obviously.
But see, while the night out at the bar wasn't that interesting, like the lemon, it had a million possibilities and ended with a drunken walk home that was more shaming than a morning walk to your car. It involved intimacy, vulnerability, and undivided attention.
See, the man (see instead: "man") I was with had been showing clear signs he wasn't wanting anything serious from me. So, I thought I made the wise decision to see other people and not take him so seriously. I thought he would be happy to hear it, but instead it brought out something I had never seen in him before... emotion.
Have you ever seen someone who spends their lives devoid of any emotional expressions beyond the occasional laugh at a comedian or a scowl at their surroundings? Chris was that type of person. I had to guess what he wasn't saying, and I usually ended up running my mind ragged trying to explore every endless possibility to what he must have been feeling about us.
But this night, walking the long trek from the Tavern to Bradford, I saw him break... just a little. All it took was hearing he was hurt that I had given up on him that easily and left him (his words). He said he must've meant so little to me for me to toss him out so easily (see also: gaslighting).
So what's the point of the story?
The point is it took me 365 days to see the irony in the situation. Just like I did with the oddly naked lemon (guys, you know that is seriously weird looking, right??), I took a double take and realized something I hadn't done before: I wish I had been stronger.
I've spent a lot of time lately explaining to my friends that I lost myself in my first relationship (not-relationship is what I actually call it *eye roll*) after my divorce, and he used my constant "state of lost" in his favor. When I would lose my cool, which was rarely and only when he did something terrible, he told me how it was my fault. He told my I was overreacting. He told me to stop thinking and just live my life. He mocked me.
See, in my marriage I was a total bitch most of the time. No, really, I was awful. I was in this constant mindset that I was above my husband in some ways, I think. I never specifically thought John was less than, but I treated him as though he wasn't allowed to have an opinion or say in many things. Plus, I was angry a lot. Like more than humanly necessary. I was acting insane.
So, I tried to go a different path in my time with Chris. I tried to listen more to what he wanted. I tried to be patient and accepting of how he showed love. I tried to pray about it. I tried to wear a love oil (oh yeah, he paid for my meal the first time ever after I wore that). I tried speaking it into existence, reading the cards, talking to a psychic, and let the crystals give me answers. I tried it all, guys. Anything I could to just BE, not be on "go" ever second of our time together.
On the surface, the concept is exceptional. But, if you put a person in that mindset in the presence of someone who is manipulative, you can get something so toxic it curls your stomach when a memory pops up for just the most split of a second.
What happens when you mix a manipulator with a meek-minded person? A double take that doesn't end well. A double take of the likes of what one sees when they turn again to see the head rolling down the road by the car wreck: gut wrenching.
I lost my uumph. I lost my can-do when I was with him. He told me I was crazy for wanting anything after a marriage, for wanting a relationship, and for wanting to be with him. I learned now that if a man says you're crazy for being with him you are, and it's that simple. In the end, he's telling you the honest truth. He isn't ready.
But what's worse than seeing me mentally weak in this double take is something I buried deeper than my mental highway: he was abusive physically in the most disgusting way. He knew the right way to choke someone for pleasure and not to actually obstruct their airway. But that night, when he got mad at me he choked me. He choked me to punish in a way that wasn't for pleasure. He slapped me in the fact repeatedly even when I told him to stop. It took me blocking him and shoving away to break the tension. He didn't punch me, kick me, or hit me with something to hurt me.
It took me time to realize why he did it, but looking back on the last day we were together right before I left him, it was a way to show he was dominant on all fronts. I did not get a say in this duo. I was to do what he said would be done, and beyond that I was to shut up and take it. Whatever decisions he made I had no choice to be happy with them.
I'm a child of abuse from my father, and throughout my life it was like abuse of some kind followed me. I don't tell my story to make anyone feel bad for me. I do it to show instances like this are not okay. There are lines drawn in a relationship in various areas that the other knows they are not to cross, and if at anytime they cross that line with no regards to what you say you have to take it as an immediate need to sit back and examine the situation you are now in. Sometimes, getting out is the best option.
I hope my strange second take gets to someone who hears this loud and clear: you do not deserve abuse, mental or physical, and if you are in a situation where you need help I strongly encourage you reach out to the authorities. IF you feel that is not an option, please call 1-800-799-7233. or get in contact with the National Domestic Violence Hotline in some other format. You are worth more, and you deserve true love and happiness.
No comments:
Post a Comment