Bully Incident: The Wooden Deck (1976)

aeisenbe:

It’s interesting to me to retell this story about my early run-in with Bob, who I would contact over 30 years later to discuss this and other incidents from my memories of being bullied. The most interesting part to me is that, as I talked more to Bob, he could not recall these stories or bullying me. While my memory is vivid, just the other day, he told me that, not only does he not recall this, his friends tell him he was always the one who would stick up for the bullying victim and didn’t like bullying. I thought that so interesting as I believe he may have both blocked my stories and maybe some of his early youth from his own life. I don’t doubt his belief as we all see things differently and quite possibly, Bob in later years, was the guy who stuck up for those being bullied. It may have just been a case of him changing his ways. ~Alan Eisenberg

Originally posted on Bullying Stories:

The long road of constant bullying for me started in Spring of 1976 at Franklin Elementary School in Lexington, MA when I was about 8 years old.  I wasn’t a big kid and enjoyed being a bit of a dramatist and performer. I don’t recall not having friends, and always had someone to play with at the playground.

Our playground at Franklin was quite large for an elementary school and covered 3 sides of the school grounds. I recall there being adult teachers outside with us, but they were always chatting together on the steps.

Toward the back of the school yard, there was a very large wooden deck structure with multiple platforms to play on and a pole you could repel down. My friends and I loved to play on that and run around on it. It was in the back of the play yard in a wooded are.

One day…

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My Mother’s Bullying Story (A Personal Story)

Writing an autobiography is very difficult, because not only do you need to know about yourself, but it forces you to confront the people in your life that know you best. A few months ago, I shared my father’s story, which was difficult. This week, I share my mother’s story, which is equally as difficult to read for me, but important about home abuse and early childhood trauma. My mother is a strong woman with great confidence. Asking her to recall her own situation was one of the harder things I had to do for my autobiography. The book, “A Ladder In The Dark: My Journey from Bullying to Self-acceptance”, should be released in the summer and I am looking for help. If you can help, even a little, go to my link at my new business website at: http://bullyingrecovery.org/fundraising/. I am in need of any help you can offer and I hope you get some lessons from my mother’s story below. I love you, Mom. ~Alan Eisenberg


Carol Eisenberg

My mother as a young girl in days long gone by

Lately I have been thinking about bullying.  It does not have to come from other peers.  I was bullied by my mother.  Don’t get me wrong I loved my mother, but I had the feeling that she didn’t love me.  Nothing I ever did was good enough for her.  I will give you the following example:

First some background, when I was 7 years old my father died at the young age of 35 from cancer.  This was very traumatic for both my mother and for me.  She had to go to work to support my brother (who was 3 at the time) and me.  I was forced to grow up quicker than the peers around me.  I developed a shield of confidence and carefreeness while inside I was insecure and angry.  OK, now the story.  I decided to help my mother by dusting the house for her so she would be able to enjoy her weekend.  I worked as hard as I knew how to clean and polish the tables that we had.  When she came home from work I proudly announced that I had dusted the house so that she wouldn’t have to.  She looked around and pointed to a “cobweb” in the upper corner of the room and said “You missed that”.

I never dusted for her again.

It hurt badly.

I swore that I would never do that to my children and worked hard not to.

I was also bullied by my father’s mother (my paternal grandmother).  She would wait for me after school and whisper to me (at age 7) that my mother killed my father by giving him cancer.  I, of course, would go home and accuse my mother.  This resulted in my having to go to a child psychiatrist for a time.  We eventually moved away and the problem resolved itself.

I guess I have been carrying this baggage around with me for quite some time and have just recently come to terms with it thanks to my son asking me to write some of my thoughts down.

A quick story about ESP and Alan or that family psyche connection we all have.

When I went back to work in Lexington, Alan and Robyn would call me when they got home so I knew that they were safe.  One day I had this overwhelming feeling that I had to go home, something was wrong!  I told my boss that I had to leave.  When I got home I found Alan outside the house crying.  He had lost his key.  No one called me, I just knew. (Yes, this really did happen and to this day I believe that we have a much greater energy connection due to these stories. For example, have you ever picked up the phone before it rang to call someone and they are on the other end, because they called you at the exact same moment. I’m sure statistically, that is very unlikely, but it happens all the time. ~Alan).

~Carol Eisenberg

The Kitchen Sink (A Personal Story)

When I am sent a story from someone and it does not include a title, I try to give it one with the appropriate feel for what is written. As I read Sophie’s bullying story below, I saw that she has had to deal with the “Whole Kitchen Sink” of types of bullying and issues that the long-term effects of bullying can bring. I am sorry, Sophie, for your suffering and you are brave and strong to not only tell you story, but offer your email if others need to contact you. I have found that true communication is one of the best methods of therapy to release the effects that bullying has on you. ~Alan Eisenberg


Girls bullyingMy names Sophie and here’s my story.

It all started about 2 years ago whenI began to be called names, nothing that seemed to bother me.  I used to get called all sorts of names, even in my own street someone would shout out at me, it was horrible..

To girls called Chloe and Tiffany both started to create a massive gang of people who would come and annoy me, some even pined me up against lockers or put my head down toilets, and the school never did anything…

One time i got home from school and logged on to my Facebook and i got invited to this page that was all about me, but not in a good way, every comment on there was bad/negative and there was pictures of me which was horrible.  I shut my Facebook down after that and kept of it, till i went on a site were you could help each other with these sort of situations and this boy took a fancy into me, like someone actually cared, which at that point meant a lot.

I met him and he raped me, i was 14.

After that i never told anyone for about a year and then i took an overdose and tried to kill myself. Then it all came out about what had happened and police got involved. By then, i was covered in scars and cuts from self harm and i came out as being a lesbian. My bullying still continues but its better than it was.

Just know your all not alone and if you ever need someone to talk to then my email is sophierichardson978@yahoo.com

~Sophie

Bullies are Satanists (A Personal Story)

The fear of death from bullying is very real when you are young. As hard as it is to believe when you are older, when a young bully threatens to kill their victim, in many cases, including my own, we believe they will. I always then think about what actions can a victim take. They could ignore the threat and not believe it. They could see it as credible and then a few actions can take place. If they have a strong school system, community, and/or family, they might talk to them. But in several cases, this can lead to either bullycide (the victim committing suicide to avoid any further torture) or worse, taking a weapon to school out of fear and possibly using it. It is a very thin line for the bully victim in these cases. Rob’s story below shows how this problem can and does escalate. ~Alan Eisenberg


Boy with fists upI have had many good and bad experiences in this life, but  (never thought I’d make it this far), but the absolute worst day of my life came in my freshman year in high school.

It was 1981, spring I think, and after school I was yet again waiting for the bus when my own custom designed personal tormentor decided to amuse himself with me.

But my elementary school friend decided to intervene. He told B to stop messing with me and as M was part of a very strong gang, B quickly agreed.

“Yes sir, I won’t touch R anymore.” I was amazed and thankful. I was also foolish. When a bully is committed to acts of terror, rage and hate, a warning won’t stop them. And my own stupidity also just about killed me … buoyed by my success at getting B to stop assaulting me, on the way home, behind B, I started gently calling him names (I thought he was listening to his Walkman).

I felt uplifted, strong … powerful as I quietly called B every curse word I could call to mind. Halfway through this, B turned in his seat and slugged my arm, promising that he heard me and he would deal with me when we got off the bus.

In front of our elementary school, we came off the bus and B waited until the bus pulled away and then, another old classmate – excuse me, asshole – came over and started assaulting me. At this time, I rolled into a very tight ball on the ground and was totally terrified.

Fortunately, not much happened. Except for the emotional abuse, the 2nd bully stepped away and as I was going home in tears again, B started joking and laughing loudly at the way I was walking.

I continued going home, but after I crossed the soccer field, I was jumping up and down , crying and cursing in rage … when I got home I remembered that my dad had a rifle or something and I tried to find it. If I had, even though I didn’t really understand the concept of bullets yet, I was going to race down to B’s house, and threaten him with the rifle.

Thank God none of that happened, but, after my experience with B, I transferred out of that school into a smaller setting, where bullies were not as tolerated.

And, since that day, I have been bullied many times, but never again did I fear that I was going to die.

And, God also moved in my life – now I have hope.

~Rob

Bully Incident: The Wicked Witch (1976)

aeisenbe:

When I first wrote this story so many years ago now, I realized that I felt resentment toward my mother and adults that couldn’t help me with the bullying I was experiencing. I now realize I have to own these stories and can’t reset the action or inaction of others, because in many cases they just didn’t know and it wasn’t their fault that the situation happened. These situations do happen and we have to accept that it is the case and take ownership of the lesson learning. Unfortunately, in this case, the lesson was to walk away and not interact with this situation. ~Alan Eisenberg


Originally posted on Bullying Stories:

This next story I want to share took place around when I was around 7 and really was less about me being bullied then about my family. I am the youngest in the family. I have a sister two-and-a-half years older than me. When we first moved to Lexington, MA, where most of the bullying took place, we had moved from Maryland.

Lexington was vastly different. The people were different then what we were used to. I was less in the know on this, but talk to my parents frequently about our years in Lexington and the issues the whole family had.

Soon after we moved there, my mom walked my sister and me to the school playground at Franklin Elementary, where I went to elementary school and where much of my early bullying incidents took place. This would be the first incident at the school grounds, long before schools made bully…

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The Workplace Punching Bag (A Personal Story)

I have learned through my website that bullying is not something that just ends at school age, but that bullies can grow up to be workplace bullies and victimization from bullying happens to adults as well. If that wasn’t clear before, it has become abundantly clear to me through stories like the one below. As with school administration, I wish all HR departments at companies would have a “no bullying” policy and follow it when needed. ~Alan Eisenberg


Stop Workplace BullyingI want my story to be heard as I know many others that have suffered through similar and bullying and victimization is not limited to the school grounds and early years, but is sadly alive and well in the workplace.

Last year I felt like a punch bag… it was like a vendetta was being launched and the HR Department were powerless from stopping it from happening.  It is not what you know, but who you know.

This is how it all began…

I was appointed the Head of Marketing. I embraced the challenge and was extremely upbeat and enthusiastic to begin with. I started to make various positive changes… rebranded, created a corporate brand guideline and developed social media.

I received praise from the ‘outside world’ and from most of the board members, however there was one department and one Director in particular that I was required to work with in order to succeed in the marketing in its entirety and this particular department and Director made my life a living hell for approximately 12-18 months. By the end of it, I was nothing more than a nervous, insomniac wreck of person. 60% of what I had been tasked with meant I had no choice, but to work with this particular department. I am a proactive individual so made bi-monthly standing meetings that were often cancelled and yet I soon discovered that ‘secret meetings’ pertaining to the marketing and various events had been held. I was once accused in a meeting in front of many individuals of making some terrible mistakes that had caused some embarrassment… it had to do with the proofing, the print and the delivery. They didn’t like it when I was able to back up all my documentation to show that:

  1. Deadlines had been missed by this department for final changes so late submissions caused the additional pressure on the print suppliers to deliver within an unreasonable time frame.
  2. Some of the supposed requested changes to be made could never be backed up/supported and all requested changes received were made by me.
  3. Due to the missed deadline the booklets would have to be delivered directly to the venue.

The printers were instructed accordingly, but at the last-minute a rather odd request was made to have these delivered directly to the hotel. I queried this at the time, but as the request came from someone far more important I let it be. However it was brought up in the meeting and I was accused of making a silly decision to deliver to the hotel which caused additional work and the cost of a taxi to ferry these booklets in several trips to the event. However I had the supporting emails to prove that the decision had not been made by me which I produced and this caused embarrassment to the important person concerned. I was not about to be humiliated again for a mistake I had not made! This is where I fear that the real vendetta against me and my team began.

It was indeed a very sad year as I was desperately trying to justify everything I did. The ‘bullies’ were however allowed to continue with the harsh tones, failure to respond to emails, stonewalling, secret meetings, missed deadlines and worst of all were the fabricated stories and lies and the stalking on my own personal social media sites that followed for at least 6 months. There was little I could do except do other than the best that I could and to persevere. Thankfully others supported me, but the damage of the stress had taken its toll and eventually something had to give… the marketing was yanked from under my feet through no fault of my own and the person appointed to take over the role was none other than the Directors sister-in-law and the daughter of the big boss.

I am hardworking, diligent and dedicated and usually achieve my goals. I have never cheated, lied or stolen in my life… I am as honest as they come. I am direct and truthful and I have strong morals and integrity, but what I saw and went through gave me a cruel insight to the harsh reality of the business world. I was advised that if I decided to take the matter further I would almost certainly lose as the company had endless financial and legal resources and even though this particular Director has a file a ‘mile long’ (slight exaggeration!) of complaints of bullying and various other charges against her she was untouchable and no one who came up against her ever won! If I pursued the matter I might just not have a job right now so how would I then pay my bills and mortgage? My very kind, caring and wonderful colleague who was working with me resigned out of principle to what was happening and also because with the loss of the marketing she was forced into a menial job that she did not wish to do. I felt cowardly for staying, but at that point I had lost all confidence in myself and the system that was supposed to protect the bullied victim.

I speak Afrikaans as part of my home language and I am proud to be bilingual. Hearing others speak foreign languages in and around me is refreshing… it shows we are a proud multi-cultural society. It shows I am not racist. The definition for ethnicity is: the fact or state of belonging to a social group that has a common national or cultural tradition which to me equates to an Afrikaans speaking South African and for this I was forced into writing a letter of apology for speaking a language which apparently caused a colleague some offence. This colleague never brought it to my attention, he never even politely asked that I refrain from speaking another language in front of him… he went straight to the very top with exaggerated claims, false accusations and goodness knows what else so the HR department were therefore instructed to deal with myself and another colleague and we were told under no uncertain terms that should we choose not to write an apology letter for speaking Afrikaans our jobs were under threat. Other languages openly spoken in the office have never ever been brought into question… a different rule applied to us. We were not being treated fairly. This gang of colleagues at work had rallied around to ‘get me‘ and they were to succeed. The worst was a twitter claim that could never be supported (nothing was ever captured or photographed) and it was exaggerated to all on the board. I was beyond mortified. Even my own boss never believed me. Unbeknown to me HR and the CEO had already trawled through a 1000 twitter messages on my feed and found the retweet (yes a retweet from UberFacts!) that had upset this particular Director who was out to get me to the point that I lost my marketing position, but the build-up to this had continued for months and perhaps because I did not break sooner this just had to be manipulated and twisted into something it never was. Once the truth was revealed that it was a retweet, I never received an apology for the embarrassment that I had endured and suffered from the false tweet accusation and I felt that my honour and integrity was forever ruined. I cried and vomited for most of the night and when I eventually was so shattered I fell asleep I dreamt I never woke up and for the first time in a long time I felt free.

I realized then that I needed help. So I wrote the following message on Facebook to my bullies and I have subsequently received huge support from around the world and now realise just how many others suffer daily at the hands of bullies. I am sadly not alone.

“You and your gang of friends made my life so unbearable last year with the exaggerations and lies that it made me physically ill. I lost the marketing position, I lost my colleague, I was stalked on social network sites and I suffered from an ulcer and the physical and emotional stress caused elevated Cortisol levels and as a direct result of this I have gained weight. This is bullying… IT IS victimization, but sadly you won the last round and you are likely to win again. It was never ever a fair fight to begin with. Your ties and connections protect you and your loved ones… I am not afforded the same. Karma will prevail.”

My advice to those going through a similar experience is to please not suffer in silence as I want to let you know that you are not alone. Surround yourself with family and genuine friends that care and with their help you can get through it all. The advice I received today was to ‘forgive, but never forget.’ Perhaps it is time to heed this very good advice.

 ~Anonymous

Bully Incident: – The Sewer (1974)

This is the second in my repeats of stories past as I have been writing my novel. I think many kids feared sewers, particularly after Stephen King released “IT”, certainly a book that tied to the fear of sewers. Since writing this story many years ago, I realize that things like feeling trapped or claustrophobic are common place feelings for people with C-PTSD damage from bullying or abuse. It is the idea of not being able to escape. To help confront this, I would force myself to sit in the middle at movie theaters, go to the barber and try not to panic in the barber chair and go to crowded places. Even though I wanted to run away at the height of my anxiety, I forced myself to stay through the panic attack and eventually, I stopped having them. There is only one way to go with anxiety, and that is confront it head on and go through it. Just as the kids who become adults do in Stephen King’s novel, IT. ~Alan Eisenberg


I have mentioned before how our brains have a tendency to put certain memories in the far backs of our heads. They are forgotten there, until sometimes a trigger can bring them forward.

Pretty much all of my stories I have told on this blog are from my days in Lexington, MA. But, something triggered me to remember the earliest incident I can recall the other day. I’ll call this the Sewer Incident. It’s more of a minor story, but still was an early bullying in my life. I don’t know why I had forgotten it, because when I recalled it, I realized how scary it was when I was only 6 years old in 1974.

We were living in Bowie, MD at the time. I was in 1st grade and took a long bus ride to school. I recall only fleeting memories of what happened, but my older sister was with me to help me recall more.

ITThe bus stop was at a sewer. I was a pretty small kid and, of course, there were kindergarten to 6th grade kids at the bus. One of the older kids had taken the sewer cap off the sewer. Of course these were very heavy metal things.

For some reason they chose me that day. They put me down in the sewer. I can’t recall if it was a bet or just a forced concept, but they made me climb down there. Then they put the lid back on it.

It was dark. I yelled for them to let me up. Instead they sat on it and taunted me from below. I recall just crying and being quite scared. Years later, the author Stephen King made me realize I was not alone in my fears of the dark sewer in his book “IT”.

My sister was yelling for them to stop and let me up. When they didn’t, she started running home and told them she was going to get my parents to come down. Once they heard that, they changed their minds and let me out.

OK, not the worst story and probably more of a joke to them than true bullying, but still something that scared a small 6 year old. I recall years later being offered the chance to go down the sewers at my college for what was billed as a fun night of sewer running by my college friends. I respectfully declined the invitation.

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