Three posts in two days!!

I'm going to try writing about this, since talking about it with my husband didn't really ease my mind.

W's "friend", who owns the land he goes hunting near, we barbecued with, Bubba goes to play with his grandkids, etc. etc., came over today, to bring me an inhaler. He does that, helps us out with puffers since mine are so expensive, and he gets extra from his insurance. He called to see if I needed one, which, of course, I did. I agreed to make lunch. No big deal.

God, it's no easier to write than it was to talk to W about.

Let me just say it. He came on to me. BIG time. No mistaking his intentions. I had been getting a vibe to begin with, but just chalked it up to me being tired, whatever. I totally rebuffed him, he got all apologetic, and left. I know I probably should have handled it different, kicking him out before he just said he was going, but honestly, I was so numb from the shock of it all. I never thought he would make a move like that.

I knew I was going to tell W, but I didn't want to bother him with while he was away. I knew how he'd react. Part of me knew he'd sever ties with him, part of me didn't want him to because he's one of the few friends he has. But what kind of friend does that?

After the race, I couldn't sleep. The scene keeps replaying in my head, along with all kinds of other horrible thoughts and images. I texted (is that even a freakin' word?) W and asked him to call me if he was still up. W handled it well, didn't lose his temper, at least on the phone with me. I know he's pissed. And I was right. He's going up there as soon as he gets home, clearing out his tree stand (for hunting) and that's it. I made him promise not to beat him up or anything like that. He's most likely going to call out there tomorrow, too. I know his temper, and I'm a bit worried...I may ask the neighbor to go with him. Someone.

I don't know how I could have avoided this situation. We've always hugged, kissed on the cheek in greeting and whatnot. He's always said how nice I look, or whatever. Why today did those same things give me the heebies? And what the fuck made him think it would be ok to do something like this. I keep thinking about whether he had it all planned before he even got here. I know I never encouraged anything. I don't want to feel like I'm a victim, and I guess I probably am. Why am *I* the one losing sleep and the one feeling all icky inside? Better question, how the fuck do I make the thoughts stop? W made me agree to take one of his sleeping pills. I always feel like ass in the morning, but with no obligations for the holiday, hopefully it will wear off well before I need to be moving. And if I really oversleep, will someone come and clean up the messes the dogs won't make it outside to do.

There was never a question on whether I'd tell W, only WHEN. If the same had happened to him, I'd want to know. This ties in to something I've not told any living person about, and I'm not telling it here, either. But I know that he would understand my need to know if something like that happened to him. Especially since I'm not sure how he would have reacted. I know how I would WANT him to react, but husbands are tricky about not thinking the same way as we would.

I'm already feeling a little fuzzy from the pill. I was tired to begin with. Yeah, just took a slug of water and I'm a little wobbly. And my typing has deteriorated considerably.

Hopefully the pill will put me under quickly before any nasty thoughts creep in. I feel drunk without the drinking. I'm hoping on being able to walk to the bathroom and pee and then to the bed before falling over or something. I'll be sure to tell you about if I ended up sleeping on the floor in the bathroom. Too bad I can't fit in Bubba's new bed, or I'd go there so I at least smell him a little. I can actually fit in it, it's so big, we're worried about the weight being too much for the little slats holding up the mattress. Oh that's tempting. I miss him. I would love a Bubba snuggle and kiss right now. I'd never ask W to come home early for something this trivial. I just hope he can continue to enjoy himself up there.

Thoughts are getting gooey here now. Goodnite y'all. I'm taking my fucked up mental head off to bed. 'Pologize for any typos I missed, I've looked good and hard at text, but it's getting a mite difficult, what with my head swaying around and all.

Hey y'all all give me some ideas for a category for my mental issues I'm sure to be talking about in the future. nervous breakdown just doesn't have the right ring to it.

"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream. Mr. Sandmaaan, Courtesy of Lunesta, briiing meee aaaah normal DREAM! "

fin