One of the first traits you might notice in a Psychopath, or at least a toxic relationship, is their need to move through the “courtship” phase too quickly. Another one is the over abundance of GIFTS! Especially flowers. Perhaps an expensive ring… Mine gave me several things that were a special gesture (only to take everything back, within a matter of a few days). Flowers every couple of days, gifts, etc. I should be grateful, right? No, he was just piling up all the visible “nice” things for others to gape at, and exclaim, “What a wonderful man, you are…” It was a cover-up of every bit of torture he would inflict at the same time.
My X-monster immediately started pushing me to move in with him. The reason he told me? To help me pay off some bills. I was placed in a situation where the home I was renting, was being sold. I had a week to move somewhere. My X offered (and continued to push) for me to move in. I was NOT ready for that, nor had we been together for more than a month, prior. Too much too soon. In the meantime, HIS landlord had another rental available, which my X told me about. I saw the apartment, and considered all of the options…’move in with this man that I barely know’ or ‘live in my car’ or ‘accept the rental from this landlord.’ I opted for the last option. When I made my decision, I told my X about it. He was visibly shocked, but shook that off, since he was the one who suggested it. He never considered that I would take the latter option over moving in with him. He thought I would see the lack of options and feel pushed to HAVE to move in with him. That didn’t happen. In the end, I realized what WOULD have happened, had I agreed to move in with him. He would have stepped up his cruel taunts, derogatory statements, accusations, and brainwashing till I would have been in the midst of “Stockholm Syndrome” as a result. He would have been better able to control me. He even said he would have had me quit my job, since being a ‘housewife’ was my biggest dream. Ummm…no.
The area surrounding this apartment is concentrated in drug addicts, alcoholics, and has it’s own crime statistics. When you check the local crime statistics, just the immediate area alone, has 5 registered sex-offenders of level 2 and above. Why would I willingly move into such a slime hole? the other options were not options…they were traps, and I knew it, in some way.
I knew there were red-flags surrounding this man. I knew I didn’t feel comfortable around him, yet he was so “down to earth”, “caring”, and such a gentleman (as long as I was silent…but I was wrong about him)! One of which I had never seen before in my life. I thought I was mistaken, and my feelings or reactions were residual from my last relationship, since it’s what he suggested so many times. I decided to give things more time. Somewhere around that same time, about 1 month prior to my birthday, my X started playing with my ring finger on my left hand. Soon, he asked “what size do you wear?” I, still thinking that he was more “Mr. wonderful” than not, told him “4 1/4, but that’s my wedding hand. I think I wear a 5 on the other….Why?” I WAS elated that he would even consider buying something like that for me, but just the fact it was what he was hinting at, made me uncomfortable at the same time, though he WAS very sweet in considering it (I thought). He proceeded to ask me about my favorite color, etc. come to find out, he wanted to buy me a ring for my birthday. The time came that we went to pick it out. I felt HORRIBLY uncomfortable with even the thought of allowing someone I hardly knew, spend any significant money on me. I told him I would rather he bought me something much smaller..like a CD of a group I liked, or something more appropriate. He insisted, still, that he really wanted to do that for “me”. (right). I swallowed hard, and allowed it, against my better judgement. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He insisted that it go on my wedding finger. That alone, made me uncomfortable. It was a beautiful ruby and diamond ring. The stones were large enough for me to think it was pretty, but not in the least gaudy.
Ring in hand, and uneasiness throughout, he laid down the rules…”You are not to wear this at work, because it will get ruined”. Reasonable, right? I told him I wouldn’t be, as it would get in the way of delivering products to other stores. It’s amazing how it went from him and his “rule” to, “Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” I was accused of hiding it, to let other guys think I was single. It went on from there… finally I stopped wearing it all together. I told him, “I have a mouth and you need to trust that I will use it.” This was in regards to any guy who might hit on me or ask me out on dates. “I will wear it when I want to.” He continued watching my house, accusing me of all sorts of possible things, grilling me about who my daughter was talking to, and who might know where she and I lived. It was for our safety, after all.
This is a paraphrase of several months, surrounding this ring. The day came that we exchanged personal belongings. I told him I didn’t want the ring, and placed it in the bag, too. He informed me that he didn’t want it, and to pawn it off for $20. “It never meant anything to you anyway, you only saw it as a way to control you” (Wait! I NEVER ACCUSED him of this! Was this an admission?). I respected his wishes, and removed the ring from the bag.
Now, the significance of the ring. It’s beautiful, but also represents pure evil, to me. I can’t pawn it or outright sell it. I don’t want anything coming from it, or as a result of the torment I went through. I don’t want to give it to someone I like, love, or who is special to me. I can’t return it to his mother, as this would cause a whole new wave of Hell. I’m stuck with this symbol of him and his torture of me. I still know where it is. I still have it. I can’t just throw it away, either. It is pretty, after all. It would appear that I’m stuck not knowing what to do with it. If I pawned it, I would be accepting evil. (I know, that sounds weird). I absolutely cannot give it away to anyone I care about, as I view it as an evil thing and that would be a slap in the face to a friendship. The symbol it IS, is something that I’m viewing that needs to be disposed of, very carefully. Though I know it doesn’t physically embody pure evil, or evil spirits…it still feels like it does. I can’t even look at it without reliving some of that hell, to a point.
So, here I sit…the ring is in my briefcase in a plastic bag, where it has stayed since our last court date, when I fought to have a restraining order placed on him. It has never been removed from that spot, or even looked at. It’s entombed in that bag. Tombs have curses on them. To me, that ring is…and will always be…a curse.
I want it gone.