The Alpha Bully (A Personal Story)

I don’t know why anyone would believe their bullying story is met with disbelief and skepticism as this writer shared. I have read so many stories from so many that are both shocking and unbelievable to me. What I felt happened to me is nothing compared to what many others went through. What we all have to remember is that we are all in this small blue planet together and that, no matter what happened to us in our past, we have a choice to move forward or stay living in the past. I know, because for over 30 years, I lived in the past. Is it easy to move forward…NO. But we can and we should learn to forgive, but not forget. By sharing the stories, we don’t forget, but we can forgive. It is not an easy thing to do and I needed help to get to the point of forgiveness. But mostly now I forgive myself. I hope we all can and grow from these lessons. ~Alan Eisenberg

My story is typically met by disbelief and skepticism, which does make it hard to share. However, because countless numbers were impacted I share it anyway.

When I was in middle school I had between 60 – 80 bullies, and at one point I stood up to 24, which had me encircled.

The bullies in my school were united, brought together by the “alpha” bully, and subsequently ranked in a hierarchy. At the bottom were the rank and file, which made up the majority of them. They were the expendable cannon fodder. A step up was the elite, 24 of the cream of the crop.

The hierarchy was an extremely methodical and efficient instrument because of its ability to terrorize on an industrial scale. It was virtually an enterprise with quotas, a chain of command, and administrative duties carried out by the 24, who partitioned the school into “territories” and issued orders to their subordinates and reported to the alpha.

And it was the alpha, who alone reported to his superior, a kid named Sean, who was a self-proclaimed visionary. He believed he was a god. And his vision of building a better school had already captivated the entire school and the community, who celebrated him with euphoric cheers and applause.

“Together,” he would often said, “we can build a better school.” But it was he that had created the hierarchy.

At eleven, he successfully ended bullying in an entire school. With a snap of his fingers it stopped. He was hailed a hero… of course, unbeknownst to them, he could always resume it at any time he wished. And like a wheel turning, the more he brought it back the more he was revered; the more others suffered, the more he was elevated.

He wanted to stand on top of the world and be worshiped. He had initially used the popular clique to begin his rise to prominence, exploiting their desperation to find an answer to bullying, but once he had surpassed them in love and adoration, he destroyed them. They were pawns who had simply outlived their usefulness.

His vision stirred resistance among hundreds of students, however, who saw right him, but he suppressed any opposition ruthlessly, including his old friend, the leader of the popular clique, who received a visit from the entire hierarchy for six weeks until he succumbed to insomnia and paranoia.

In the meanwhile, I had managed to turn one of the 24 against him, a certain bully who actually despised taking orders. He soon divided the hierarchy and its loyalties, and all out war abruptly followed, as bully turned on bully.

But because of my “inexcusable interference,” as Sean put it, a close friend of mine was consequently targeted too and sent to the emergency room. There would be no negotiating with his vision.

This incident however sparked a tidal wave of insurrection, and I watched in disbelief as students cornered the rank and file and forced them to swear never to bully again. It was awe-inspiring. And though the elite escaped it was clear there was hope.

Eventually, the 24 came after me in revenge, but I outwitted them and they turned on one another. And then, all that remained was the alpha, who was subsequently quarantined by the student body and made to watch as the school was rebuilt with smiles and happiness. I think it was torture for him to see so much positivity.

As for Sean, he was confronted by the bully who divided the hierarchy. The fight was brief though, because the teachers arrived just in time to save the miracle worker.

Ultimately, the school was rebuilt, replacing dark clouds with light. And yet, Sean’s vision was given full credit for it despite the fact that it was by student’s who had resisted him. Moreover, because his vision was credited, it therefore ignited a movement that grew and expanded, branching out in many directions, and was strengthened significantly by his martyrdom… and yet, this sentiment may be rather unjust, because as it turned out, ironically, the bully who fought him wanted nothing more than to be free.

For three years, Sean’s vision ruled absolute, rallying thousands upon thousands behind it. There was “Build a Better School Day” assemblies and community events, parades, and anything to put him in the spotlight. He waved and smiled for the consumption of his public. “Together,” he said excitedly, “We can!”

And despite all he did, his vision still lived and breathed. And when our graduating class stood up and held hands years later, proud of our accomplishment, it was instead marveled as the greatest masterpiece of a true visionary.


A Question of Why (A Personal Story)

It takes a special person to share their personal stories online. We have come to expect that social media is the new norm and through these posts, we can spread the message that we are not alone. But we still always feel alone and that is just part of our human nature. As I read Callie’s story, I continually ask myself “why”? Why do people treat each other this way? How can we stop it and become the empathetic society we should be? Right now, I have yet to get the answers needed. ~Alan Eisenberg

I’m considered very intelligent and when I was in 7th grade did a girl named Caitlin start bullying me. I was never given a reason why except that I was always smiling. Daily she would threaten me that she would start a fight with me. I was kinda scared at that fact since not long ago did she beat up a girl named Sierra who was in really bad shape after. Caitlin even got the whole school against me, except the teachers. I would be shoved into the wall and tripped. My only friend was Kiera and since each grade is separated into two groups. Kiera and I were separated. My family didn’t know any of this and it continued the rest of that school year.

Funny how then when I’m in 8th grade does the teachers ask if I had a problem with bullying. Me I like to keep my problems to myself and it did stop in 8th grade. Though Caitlin was still treating me terrible.

9th grade I learned she was put on house arrest and I never saw her in school. Then a girl named Ally started to bully me and it was always in Choir and my teacher never did anything. First Ally put 4 or more packets of grape jelly in the hood of my jacket and so when I put my hood up there would be jelly all in my hair. I knew it was Ally since she sat behind me in Choir and everyone saw her do it but nobody told me about it till the next year.

Also in 9th grade Ally poured a whole bottle of water in my seat on several occasions and would hide and mess with my stuff so I would miss the bus to get home. Then Ally told her friend Tamera to spit in my bottle of water. I wasn’t told that till I was in my 10th grade year. A friend had seen Tamera spit in my water and laughed when I drank from it. That friend confronted Tamera and asked why she would do that. She answered because it was funny.

It took that entire year for the principal did anything even though I reported it to him since the beginning of school. The entire class knew I was bullied and they did nothing to stop it, not even my friend did or told me anything.

I told my family about the bullying that Ally did and all my brother does is tease me that Ally is my best friend when he knows that all she is, is a living nightmare. He even went as far to say he would hook us up and I’m a female. Lately I’ve had to deal with a past sexual abuse by a cousin of mine. So that just made the situation all the worse and my parents didn’t really pay any mind to it. I actually cried myself to sleep that night which I’ve done before and called my friend Darrell who knows everything about me and he told me that he would tell my brother off for it. I at least have one true friend that will remain at my side.


Today’s Bullying Message

Do you still struggle to believe that adults struggle to deal with the bullying that happened to them when they were younger? This video from Amir might help clear that up for you in three minutes. I find it very emotionally powerful.

Depression: The Invisible People


This is a true look at depression. And, as many of us know, depression and anxiety are long term effects of bullying.

Originally posted on :

I wrote this interview to myself. I know, crazy right? This post was painful to publish but I feel it is important that I continue to raise awareness about depression.

I wanted to imagine a random person asking me some pretty difficult questions about my depression. I truly hope this post helps readers understand the complexities of this mental illness. If anything I hope this post encourages compassion for any person who is depressed.


  • What’s wrong with you? What could be so wrong with your life? I mean, look at you…your life is perfect.

I guess you could say my life is perfect but really that’s your assumption. This kind of attitude makes me feel guilty. Deep down, I know you are right. I have everything to live for and I am incredibly blessed and fortunate.

  • How can you be depressed then?

It’s not something I want to happen…

View original 396 more words

Music Lyrics #14 – Dreaming With A Broken Heart (John Mayer)

I admit that I’m not the biggest John Mayer fan, but some of his songs I really like. After following his recent journey to recovery from a throat injury, I could imagine how painful it was to think he wouldn’t sing again. This one song he wrote, “Dreaming With a Broken Heart” seems to have many meanings. On the surface it seems certainly about love lost. But in a deeper sense, that love could be a child or a loved one who suffered as well. I love the song and the lyrics and thought I’d share them here with you.

When you’re dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering, “Was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?”
No she’s not, ’cause she’s gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….

When you’re dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering, “Could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?”
No she can’t, ’cause she’s gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….

Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my, roses in my hand?
would you get them if I did?
No you won’t, ’cause you’re gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….

When you’re dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part

There is Hope (A Personal Story)

Matthew and I speak the same language about our bullying experience. He is finding his way to a solution to his pain as I have been doing for the last year+ as an adult. I think that it is really great to read his positive final words here. He is well on his way to recovery and we can all learn from that. I am still amazed at how many suffer the long-term effects. I got hope from a website called “Tiny Buddha” and then bought Lori Deschene’s book called “Tiny Buddha” and found out she started what she did due to here long-term effects from bullying. What a shock. It is very real and here’s Matthew’s story. ~Alan Eisenberg

Stay strong and stop bullyinbgOutside of school, I had a great childhood–very loving parents, a home free from any abnormal stress, and a built-in best friend–a brother two years younger than me.
In school, however, I was bullied pretty heavily. I don’t remember it at all in kindergarten, so I guess it started in first grade and went to fourth grade. I will say that I’m pretty smart–I was one of the smartest kids in my class. However, at it seemed like that was the only thing going for me. I was a bit shy, and I didn’t have much in common with the other kids in my class. They seemed to be into video games, Pokemon cards and sports. I really disliked all of these things–in some cases simply on my preferences (reading was way more interesting to me than Pokemon), but more importantly they were based on lack of ability. A mix of asthma, very poor eye-hand coordination, toe-walking, and weak muscles led me to avoid basically all sports, and many coordination-requiring video games as well. (I did play a season of baseball and basketball in third grade, and I remember that I did really poor. The only time I got on base in baseball all year was when I was hit by a pitch!)

Anyway, without much at all in common with the other kids, I had a very hard time making friends. I only really considered one or two kids my friends at a time (one of which, thankfully, is still a great friend of mine!). Most times at lunch or recess, I would sit alone or wander around, always thinking but rarely talking with others. Well, the isolation led to loneliness, loneliness led to weakness, and weakness ultimately led to bullying. I used to tell myself (and it’s possible that I heard this from my parents as well) that the original cause of the bullying was me bragging about being smart to others. That definitely happened at times, I’m sure, but for the longest time I wound up blaming myself for what happened.

The worst year was first grade, when I was beat up (chased and then pushed, kicked, or thrown, not enough to cause much physical damage thankfully) quite often at recess. It was mostly one kid and maybe a few of his friends, but also a few girls in my class as well. In second through fourth grades, this happened less frequently, but I can remember a few specific incidences of bullying more clearly during those years. In second grade, I was coming down the slide at recess when a bunch of kids threw snowballs at me, knocking one of my glasses lens out. In third grade, someone knocked my lunch tray from my hands, I was “pantsed” in front of the class (and made fun of for wearing Superman underwear), and someone painted on my shirt in art class. In fourth grade, a kid who I considered my friend came up to me at recess and asked me if I wanted a “body slam” or “double body slam”. Not knowing what that was (violent cartoons were off-limits in my house), I said double, and sure enough I was picked up and thrown into the sandbox twice (and had my glasses stolen to boot). I also had food thrown at me in the cafeteria right at the end of the year. There were verbal jabs as well, such as “loser,” ‘What do you mean, you can’t swim/ride a bike?,” and “does your Mom dress you for school every day?,” (in response to a button-down shirt I was wearing), and perhaps quite a few others I don’t recall.

At the same time, I was dealing with a myriad of “quirky” habits, some of which I still struggle with now. Actually, as I’m writing this now, I wonder how many of these weren’t caused by anxiety, whether as a direct cause or as an amplification. I would chew on anything–pencils (which I would demolish during the course of a day), pens, clothing (all my shirts had holes in them)…basically anything I could get my hands on. I also got panic attacks over thunderstorms, power outages, and (worst of all) fire drills–the latter to the point that I’d be called out of class and watch the principal pull the alarm during the monthly fire drills. (I still got panic attacks over fire drills up through high school.) Of course, those all added up to more teasing over the years.

I quickly learned in elementary school that I was abnormal–that I was “not like the others,” not wanted, bound to be a loser on the social totem pole. There were many attempts to help me–meetings with the principal’s office, therapies of all kind to improve my coordination and strength, foot inserts to prevent toe-walking, even a special-education plan to help prevent the chewing. Some worked, some didn’t. But all of them worked to reinforce my abnormality. My reaction was outwardly reluctant acceptance of the way things were, to a lot of under-the-surface anger. I’d sometimes take it out on my brother when I didn’t get my way with something at home, or even (at times) when I felt he was being “too nice” to me–because I didn’t feel deserving of the love he was giving me. I also had a lot of darker thoughts–not of acting, but all hypothetical (like imagining the destruction of a hurricane or plane crash somewhere and wondering what type of damage it could cause, and how many people it could kill). I do remember coming home with a drawing in third grade of me commanding military tanks and planes, shooting bullets at a few others running away–my bullies.

The biggest help that came was moving up to middle school in fifth grade. I was actually able to meet some new people from the town’s other elementary schools there, and the main bullies were either in different classes or moved away. I was accepted into a friend group, left that one (after its leader was bullying someone else in that group), and joined one with one of my original elementary school friends. We became really close all throughout middle school, particularly because we all did band together (and I was pretty good a playing trumpet by then!). I was able to partially break free from the “I can’t have friends” attitude, and by the time I graduated high school I was in two very good friend groups and was actually quite popular.

But, the internal scars remained. I still blamed myself first for when anything went wrong (instead of apologizing), I still felt that I was abnormal and wanted to do almost anything to fit in. The times I didn’t fit in–like in gym class, when I was the only kid who couldn’t swim in the deep end of the high school pool–I always felt singled out and abandoned, even if no one else really cared that I was different. I was petrified of losing my friends, because I did not want to go back to isolation. And, although twice I had big crushes on girls in my grade, I never asked either of them out. I felt like they didn’t find me attractive and wouldn’t love me. I also always was envious of my friend’s childhoods, athletic abilities, and even other friendships–always wishing I could be someone society thought “normal,” even though, by that point, I pretty much was normal.

I’m right now a college student studying genetics, and I still have many of the same fears and tendencies. When I look at my future, I can imagine leading a lab, doing, great research and curing a disease like cancer in the future. However, as much as I would LOVE to live in my own and raise kids, any thoughts of family drift towards worrying about rejection by my spouse (what if she cheats on me and leaves me alone?) and the possible deaths of my future children. And I’m still scared of dating someone at this time.

However, like I said at the beginning of the piece, I’m the most hopeful now than I ever have been. I’m Catholic, and I joined my college’s Catholic Student Association right off the bat at the start of my freshman year. I soon bonded with a small group of guys who, for the first time, I’m totally comfortable opening up around. I can trust them, and I hope I’ll be friends with them for life! More importantly, though, I began to do a lot of soul-searching. At a retreat I went on freshman year, I looked at my life and realized I hated the face that stared back at me in the mirror. I then went through everything that I could remember that happened to me–the bullying, the abuse, the loneliness. I then paid that I could break free from all of that, or that at least I could someday break free from all of that. As many things in my life are, it’s been a very slow process….but with steady progress, nonetheless. I now am learning that my identity–an identity based off intelligence masking deep anxiety, fear, envy and self-loathing–was not true. Instead, I am created in God’s image, I am his beloved son, and He (as well as many, many others on Earth)–does love me!

I’ve noticed the anxiety slowly begin to melt, become more confident in what I do, and even started to confront some of the issues that plagued my past–for instance, I just signed up for swim lessons this semester, and I’m no longer afraid to go near a pool, so that’s progress. Over this past break, I spoke with my parents about my childhood. This past year, my elementary school was torn down, and I told them that I was very relieved to see it gone. It turns out that they really didn’t know much about my bullying beyond a couple specific incidences when the school had notified them. However, other parents had later told them that they felt sorry for me and knew what I was going through. I’m not sure yet what to make of this piece of knowledge.

For anyone still personally struggling with bullying, or for anyone who wants to eradicate feelings of self-loathing caused by previous bullying, all I can say is that there IS hope. Healing is going to take a lot of work, a lot of courage, and a lot of patience. But it’s certainly not impossible.

~Matthew J

Unequal (A Personal Story)

Sometimes I feel that, when someone writes me, I just have to share their words. Otis’s words are of that type. He speaks to the unspoken bullying that he feels has been generational in his life. I don’t know how to share that opinion, then just to share it here with you. ~Alan Eisenberg

Bullying is more of an issue than most people would ever understand , as a victim of such myself from insurance fraud which it began to being threaten as well followed a stolen properties. arson to a rental ,a home invasion shot in left femur , burglary’s as this has been many years that it has happen it has been a real life changing encounter, when one is target for greed a control in a way unexplained .

As equally I understand many groups are in awe of have good intentions to address such matters . As slaves spent many generations fighting for civil a human rights I just wish that organization such as this one a many others were not limited to the real point of the understanding the hate an greed as well the shame placed a pond the people whom has endured such a crisis instead of made out as one should hide behind the hurt as over many years I have had to fight for my strengths of over coming, mentally as well physical . and all the organizations I seeked help in could not offer any avenue for help in healing the scares by these types of battles.

Again I guess my hurt. goes back to trying to understand how anyone of my race or other races that endured oppression an bullying to take everything from someone where able to not lose trust in asking for help . I recall the many times I have written to many groups for a way or a investigation and was turned away. when one is dealt bad things. why is it hard for this organization or others to simply help in finding a honest investigation why is it that one has to die from the hands of oppression an injustices before a group takes a stand . not questioning the way any help happens but adding the subject for understanding when we held in faith the power to group, as marches , as protesting … I still seek answers to a fairness of knowing the truth . from a malpractice law suite that was towards a law firm for settling my case without my permission to then be forced into a settlement to be fraud out of .

And  because I keep seeking answer to what I do not have answers to as what insurance company that paid the claim i could go on an on about what I have encountered as to this life changing matter. An even to address any other lawyers to help in such matter has been nothing but closed doors because the devil I aim faced with has power to stop any progress. from invasion of privacy to hacking my net work. so it comes to mind what are they afraid of . When I look through what was rendered in my file I counted over 17 lawyers with something to hide. But again I made it this far by the grace of God. I may not be perfect in my life but I not a thief, arsonist nor blood shedder . nor do I need to lie as this would totally be a loss . More than my physical harm. from this has.