My somewhat personal experience with anti-gay bullying

[Nuclear Unicorn]

I wasn't the one being bullied but I was witness to someone I love dearly being bullied and my wonderful, wonderful husband put an end to it.

This happened not long ago but well before a lot of the current news stories hit. I think it does a fair job of capturing my feelings at the time.

Submitted without edit --

Violence. I need serious advice, please.

Not exactly Lounge stuff, I know, but GD seemed out of place too and the gungeon would just tell me to shoot the bastards.

I'm depressed to the point of tears. Have been since Friday night.

I'm married to the sweetest man ever. The gentlest man ever. Make no mistake. But I saw a side of him that simultaneously left me terrified, amazed, excited, proud and ashamed.

The back story is my best friend from college is gay. We were inseparable. Much of that changed when I married just like he said it would. It's not my husband's fault. He and by BF are good friends in their own right. They're big clowns when they're together and I adore just watching them. Still, married life is married life and I don't see my BF as much anymore.

Friday me and hubby made it a point to see my BF because he's had a few bad relationships lately and the happily married couple wanted to be around to cheer him up and give him hope or at least share some good laughs. We even went to the coffee house we all hung out at in our single days. We were having an awesome time.

My BF got up and went outside to have a cigarette and take a phone call. Two guys in the coffee house followed him out and confronted him. They started calling him the usual hideous slurs and pushed him.

My husband saw it all through the window. He exploded out of his chair, burst through the door and shoved the nearest one so hard the guy flew into the hood of a parked truck and crumpled. The second one backpeddled before my husband could hit him.

My husband is no softie; he makes his living lugging around diesel machinery. One day, months ago I walked up behind him and put my hands around one of his arms as he went to move it, not knowing I was there. He all but hurled me across the garage giving me a whiplash and landing me on my butt several feet away. He was very apologetic and scared he had hurt me but if he can toss 100 pounds without a thought you get an idea what he can do when he actually means it.

The guy he shoved was really kind of messed up; scuffed, bleeding and disoriented. The cops came while everyone was still screaming their taunts. The coffee house manager sided with us and my BF agreed to not press charges against the assholes if the assholes didn't press charges against my husband. My BF even told the cops my husband might have PTSD (which pissed off my husband when he heard about it) but one of the cops was also a vet so I think there was a military discount, IYKWIMAITYD.

BTW -- the cops were cool. They sensed which side started everything and had a sort of "you had it coming" attitude with the assholes. They appeared to be checking, re-checking and re-re-checking everybody's story until they had a rationale not to arrest my husband. Still, for a long while I was afraid I was going to have to call my dad to help me with the bail even though the cops appeared very reluctant to arrest him.

I saw my husband threaten to kick someone's ass once while we were still dating and that was scary. This was outright terrifying. I know he was defending my BF and I love him for that. And that's the part that makes me ashamed. I WANTED to see him fuck those guys up. I wanted that cowardly son of bitch to stand still long enough for my husband to land a shot and then pummel the bastard into a pulp. I wanted to be more than 100 lbs (OK, 105) so I could hit them too.

I'm depressed and literally feel sick about this and it's effected how I treat my husband. I've tried telling him it's not his fault but he obviously blames himself. It's me I'm having trouble with, not him. How do I reconcile my sudden glee of seeing another human being suffer with a morality that tells me that desiring harm is so absolutely wrong? For so many years I sat in judgment of others who hated this group or that as if they had no claims; if they wanted to do violence to others and that was enough to diminish them in my eyes. In the gungeon where I've been arguing pro-2A I've always felt a tinge of sadness when criminals have been shot in mid-crime even though I'm relieved the would-be victim prevailed. And yet, there I was Friday night reveling in the terror of seeing another man slam into something so hard he went down like a ragdoll.

Sometimes I wish my husband was a "less physical" man so I could say, "There, there, dear; there's nothing we could do." To be weak seems to be safe; to have an excuse for not acting, for hiding until the cops arrive. But then I think of my BF being hurt and I want the fuckers to suffer all over again.

I am such a hypocrite. I always said chest-thumping, war-mongering tribalism was bad -- until it was my tribe being fucked with -- and then I wanted bloody, bloody violence. I wanted those assholes to suffer so bad they never want to gay-bash or anything else like it ever again.

I keep trying to push it out of my mind. I try to act like its not there, but it keeps gnawing. I'm in tears. I don't even know who I am any more.

Please help me figure all of this out.

http://election.democraticunderground.com/101835064

Weird, the URL says "election" even though this was orignally posted in The Lounge.

Anyway, I came to peace with the events of that night; at least as far as my reaction goes. The link bares that record. The also shows what wonderful people we have here at DU. So many good hearts.

Since then my best friend has been a torrent of emotions. For a while he talked about getting a concealed carry permit. Lover Boy and he talked about that for many hours and I think my husband gave him solid advice about what that meant without assigning value judgements either way. Still, my BF has been altered by this event. It's made an impression on him. He's cursed himself for being "a candy-ass" but he's also wanted to be stronger and more self-capable. He's been depressed. He's been determined. He's definitely been changed.

My husband calls it "life." Sometimes that feels too cavalier but then again he seems to have a resilience I envy. He uses the term "soldier-on" a lot and the implications of that are as chilling as they are profound; even when you suffer unimaginable losses and feel at your worse you still do what you have to do. Ultimately, he's right. There are times that are ugly, uglier than we dare admit, but we keep moving, we don't stop because to stop is to succumb. I love my husband, my best friend, my family and the people around me too much for that.

There you have it, for whatever it's worth. Thank-you for your time.

[xchrom]

1. you have a good man. and that's really all i have to say. nt

[LuvNewcastle]

2. Just think how bad you would feel if

you were visiting your friend at the hospital or the funeral home. Be glad your husband was there to help. Maybe those guys will think twice before attacking anyone else, too.

[Nuclear Unicorn]

3. At the time my conflict was the "bloodlust" I was feeling.

I wanted to see them hurt. I was so angry and furious I felt malicious and cruel.

Almost like a bully must feel. I was not proud of myself.

My husband, in contrast, was almost mechanical during the whole episode. Situation. Process. Action. Resolution. His process governed his emotions. His emotions fed the process but never overtook it. I'm pretty sure his service accounts for that. What else can you call it except, "training, discipline, duty, camaraderie, loyalty." All that stuff I had at one time dismissed as propaganda.

But I was all emotion and rather dark emotions at that. Once I realized what I was feeling I was sick in my heart with shame. Even though we were on the right side of the situation my desire to see another person hurting, even a bad person, made me bad as well. I didn't have my husband's mechanical view of things. I know how bullies feels, of sorts, because I felt it. Maybe if they felt what I felt afterwards they would stop being bullies.

He is a good man. How can I not love him? I learned a lot about myself that night, as well. I'm trying to be a good person too.

[LuvNewcastle]

4. I understand.

The fact that you feel bad about having those emotions says a lot about your character. I'm glad things turned out all right for y'all.

[benld74]

5. IMHO,

the bloodlust rage is in all of us. Down beneath the surface. IT is the oldest part of everyone. As we evolved thru the years, we grew. Intellectually, socially at least the MOST of us did.

There are times when I too feel this rage, and I must tamp it down, because I know I am better than it is.

YET, there are times when IT is needed. IT can be used when needed and not feel bad about.