If my cynical depression has a name--
If I have a name--
For at this moment I once again have lost the ability to give any amount of shits--
I would call myself Heather.
That is the name of the mother of a friend I met over 15 years ago online. My friend told me she suffered from MPD.
I didn't believe in it back then.
But for her namesake, and the wickedness I did to my friend for my own experimental amusement,
I will call my depression Heather.
My friend hated her Mom with every fiber of her being. So I will therefore continue to hate myself.
Happy birthday, Me.