This is my last Saturday off for ETERNITY.  Of course I am exaggerating.  I am with a new company.  It took me three years to work my way up to weekends off and no phones at the Chase call center.  I have to work my way up with this new company.

So, it is 3:30 in the afternoon in South Central Texas.  The sky is dark as if it were 7pm. Rain, rain, rain is all we have had….the same is forecasted for the next 7 days.

I need to self injur.  I am trying to fight the urge by drinking.  Not what my beloved therapist would suggest.  I should be going through my DBT skills.  Umm, no.  Blah Blah.  I like my idea better.  Drink until I fall asleep, thus not breaking my skin until it bleeds.

My hope is to fall asleep to reality TV.  Watching disgustingly rich people expose their dirty laundry so that I can tell myself, ” See, your life isn’t so bad.” HaHa😄  This particular mood is but a myriad of the emotions I will cycle through today.  At some point, I will celebrate how good my first week out of training went.  I will give myself a break.  Sit on my patio and enjoy the serene sound of heavy rain.  I will throw my head back, close my eyes,  and experience moments of peace.


I was thinking of the type of movies I like.  I mean there are like and there are obsessed with.  Yeah I like horror and psychological thrillers. It is kind of like “honor among theives.”  There is the shit that is sick for the sake of being sick, (Saw, Human Centipede), and then there is sick that hypnotizes you.  True acting where you look into the actor’s eyes, look at his mannerisms and wonder how the fuck did they reach that plateau?  It is a different, more violent depraved sickness, but I KNOW him!! Not the sick twisted character, but the thing in that actor they allowed him to “go there” so fucking effectively.

One master if not THE master of this is Vincent D’Onofrio.  If you can tolerate it, watch “Caged.”  He is a sick fuck, but there are moments when he thinks of his childhood; when he bangs the steering wheel and kicks in the cab.  It makes you think, “he could have been saved.” If someone saw.  If he let someone see.  What is more of a trip is that this was directed by a woman. Another movie that I saw, felt the sickness in the character….Boxing Helena.  An oldie but goodie sick film.  It may have been the same female director. “May,” is another.  You can call them B movies or trashier than that, but try to see my point.  It is in the eyes of the characters. The eyes of the stars….Vincent D’Onofrio, Julian Sands, Amanda Bettis.  How the fuck did they go there.  They have a sickness in them. Like me, worse than me.  Who cares…there is something I recognize deep in their eyes.  Even Halle.  Not to say she can’t act, but why is she so good at playing disturbed….she knows something …has lived something.

You may think this post is full of shit. Garbage.  Cindy is drunk.  I am not.  Maybe it is a sign of losing it….who knows.  It is something in my gut.  Our lives are/were different.  Whatever I see, recognize are in the eyes of the famous, average Joes, people living, people who set themselves free….a recognition I have tried to put into words. Here is my list of some people I recognize …present and past tense.  It is like if we met at the right time, we could sit in some cheap diner and talk for hours.  Not because they were /are famous, but because there is something we recognize in eachother:

Vincent D’Onifrio

Halle B.



P. S. Hoffman


R. Williams


My former co-worker

Some pretty girl we have admired from afar

Some hunk who wouldn’t give us the time of day

Joanne Woodward

One of the cashiers at my grocery store 

There are others. Fuck…,I am 53.  They are everywhere.  If you look hard enough, for a split second… see through eschother’s masks.  Actors, singers, they just get paid the big bucks and others of us don’t.  Making a shitload of money does not make the struggle easier. 

We know who we are. Don’t you ever see someone who knows, lives, shares the mask and just want to grab them and hug them?  If we weren’t so fucking worried about what people think of us….weren’t so fucking worried about our masks, we could be there for eachother.   In between therapy sessions or cocktails LoL.



Today was my third day out of training. Comparing myself to the guy next to me who was in my training class.  He doesn’t seem to be struggling as much as I.  Mind you he is too young to match my 15 years experience, but I haven’t been on the phones in 8 years.  Maybe once I learn the absurd amount of screens they have, I will then be able to kick his ass.  After all,  I did phones, worked my way up to emails, merchant disputes, and Anti- Money laundering. 

  • A few times my anxiety has got the best of me. Crying, being visibly frustrated with the scenario as my mentor tried to guide me.  I have to work on that.  A lady came in and did overtime and spent 4 hours sitting with me.  She says I am doing great.  Honestly, I think it was just a confidence booster.  If I am doing so well, why doesn’t the guy next to me have a mentor still doing side by sides?
  • ANYWAY, I have pics of my daughter and my boyfriend in my cubicle. I told her he lives in another city (90 min away) as usual people ask why don’t I move to his city or him to mine…long story.  But I established a rapport with this lady, so I told her how we met online, how I was self conscious of my weight, and how I looked for a site for dudes who like big girls, and how I “.used to cut”….ok that is a white lie on the “used to.”

So if she tells people so what.  I decided to throw a little shit on the wall and see what sticks. Today I felt good, today I lifted the mask for a second.

Tomorrow may be totally different.  I don’t know what the fuck tomorrow will be.  Isn’t that one of our issues?

Speaking of issues, my vodka is calling my name.  Oh yeah, I walked out of the office with  my boss and the guy that sits next to me.  I made small talk, laughed….who the fuck was that??

Ahhh, a new mask.  Ewww. Again I ask…. is this a survival mask. a kiss ass mask, a disossociative mask, me leaking through….,.i just don’t fucking know.  After my cocktail I won’t care and I won’t think. I want my head to shut the fuck up!!!


A twig snaps

In the darkness

Of the woods

Or in her head

Only to herself

She is heroine

Queen of masks

That dream of death

A twig snaps

Does anyone hear

The trumpet blares

The end is near

A twig snaps 

So very clear

No one sees

Or cares to hear

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©copyright Cindy Darkheart~DaRk Whispers-A Dark Poetry Blog

New Mask

My new boss was on vacation today.  My first day out of  training.  He made me aware of it so it was not unexpected. It could have been worse I suppose. Thank God I did not count, but if I had to guesstimate I needed help 8 times.  I cried once.  Again out of frustration and kicking myself.

Tomorrow I will show up with a different mask…”look ma, no tears.” I will try to be anyone BUT me. You know what that means…..i better wear black tomorrow.

My new mask will be confident!  She will be great!  She will be another lie.


Tired vs. Happy

Training is over.  Monday is my first official day.  I should feel happy, proud.  A part of me does, I guess.  Do I really?  Perhaps I am pretending to be as I think I am supposed to be.  Maybe all of me does, yet I refuse to accept it.

To be honest, my thought as I began this post was, ” I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up.”  Then I thought, ” you have to meet your daughter and granddoggy at the vet tomorrow evening.  Your boyfriend is supposed to come to town tomorrow.  You should see him at least once before you go.”

I don’t think I really want to sleep eternally. I am just exhausted beyond belief.  Masks are not good for me and I have been wearing one for five weeks. Three days ago the issue was everyone thinks I can do this job but me.  Well, I have some confidence now as far as my new job goes.

Now the issue is that my daughter, boyfriend, and best friend think that I am okay.  I am not.  My daughter and boyfriend listen to my woes and sobs. They are supportive.  My boyfriend says I am too hard on myself….I agree. Agreeing doesn’t stop the well of emotions that bubble up and overflow.  My best friend says “you are alright. You just have your meltdowns periodically, talk to your boyfriend, and work through it.”

All of the above is true, but does not address the fact that I am tired.  I want to succeed at my new job.  I want to knock their fucking socks off!! At the same time…..I don’t want to be here; not on the job but on this Earth. I don’t understand how that can be. How could I want to succeed and die at the same time???