Wooden table with white mug that has a floral pattern. the mug is filled with wild flowers and it’s a gorgeous day with lots of green folliage in the background

Mini-NonFic Monday: Not A Horrible Day

CN: Implied suicidal ideation Genre: Nonfiction


This isn’t a horrible day. There have been many, but not today. I don’t feel horrible, things don’t appear horrible, and the absence of horriblenesses gives me hope.

Hope has been something that I’ve constantly lived for. But hope slipped away from me last year. And I almost slipped away from Planet Earth as a result.

But then another Not Horrible day happened when dozens of folks told me that I mattered. Then I wanted to stay and live for the other less horrible days ahead of me.

Like today.

I like dwelling in an absence of horribleness.

It’s nice here.

I think will make it a play day.

For who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Gonna hope for the best though.

But for now, I will enjoy myself.

Not A Horrible Day © 2023 Cait Gordon. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews. For more information, contact Cait Gordon.


A greyscale close-up of me, standing in front of a blank background. I am a white woman with short silver hair cropped closely on the sides. I am wearing dark metallic rimmed glasses with rhinestones on the side. I’m wearing silver hook earrings with flat beads and a plaid shirt.

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’CosmThe Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too. 

Featured photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com.

A white paper with text in green marker that reads: March 17, 2023 #QwitterDay! And quitter is spelled with a w instead of a u

Why I am a #Qwitter

No, that’s not a typo. I meant to spell quitter with a W instead of a U. It’s my way of saying I finally quit Twitter.

In 2011, I had joined that social media platform and yeah, there was the odd troll here and there, but I’d just block them and continue to enjoy the fun folks. Twitter used to be quite social. I met so many friends there who I still have today!

Over the years, the mood of it changed to more of a social justice feel, and I followed many disability advocates or disabled folks just sticking up for their realities. I met wonderful author humans. I hosted a weekly writing chat for Spoonie authors. I loved how we all learned from each other. I grew so much as a person.

So, why did I leave?

I mean, there was of course, a certain musk in the atmosphere… But despite that plot twist, there was something else just as serious. Over the last few years, during the pandemic, my time on Twitter was taking me over. I was addicted and couldn’t put down my phone for hours sometimes. I would be emotionally impacted by what I read—constantly. Friends noticed. My spouse noticed. I felt I couldn’t leave it because I needed to remain there for other disabled and autistic folks who depended on the platform for its accessibility. I grew stubborn on this point, too. And I was in this endless loop of read, stress, read, stress. Finally, one of my friends just had it with me and confronted me on it. Out of compassion and fear for my mental health, they didn’t mince their words. Being autistic, I prefer it when people get right to the point, but it stung like hell. It hurt because everything this person said was true.

And I woke up to myself.

I love being a disability advocate in literary spaces. I love communing with authors online. But the drama and toxicity that came with my inability to stop droomscrolling was greatly affecting my mental health. I couldn’t sleep. I was having nightmares.

Did I mention that trying to process hundreds of people angry or hurting is a hellscape for an autistic person who is hyperempathatic? Because it is. I couldn’t handle it.

As I write this, I have just deleted my Twitter accounts for my author self and the Spoonie Authors Network. I am still on Facebook, Instagram, Mastodon, and will probably be using my YouTube channel more. So, I’m not gone from social media altogether; I’m just controlling where I am and how much time I spend there.

Shockingly, I don’t miss Twitter (I haven’t been on it much at all except to post where to find me and one event I participated in). I think I might have wanted to leave it for a while now, and just needed a loving friend to kick my butt.

So, if you find yourself caught up in a toxic mess on some platform, take it from me, it’s better to leave. Just as it’s important to remove yourself from toxic in-person situations. Your mental and physical health are more important. It might feel hard to do, but the nice people who want to follow you will try to in other ways.

I realized that I will never stop being hyperempathetic, but I am too strong a person to let a platform dominate me.

My friend knew this too. And when they saw me sobering up from my doomscrolling addiction, they said: “I feel like I have my friend back.”

Yeah. I was lost for a while there.

But I’m back now.

Thanks, friend, for caring that much about me, and tossing out a life preserver when I didn’t realize I was drowning.

And now, onto healthier, more joyful times!

Also, happy Saint Patrick’s Day to you all! Éire go brách!


A greyscale close-up of me, standing in front of a blank background. I am a white woman with short silver hair cropped closely on the sides. I am wearing dark metallic rimmed glasses with rhinestones on the side. I’m wearing silver hook earrings with flat beads and a plaid shirt.

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’CosmThe Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too. 

Featured photo is #QwitterDay taken by Cait Gordon

blue and purple cosmic sky

Mini-fiction Monday: Stretched Thin, Longing for the Deep

CN: stress, mental health Genre: space opera poem

Pulled.

Pulled.

Pulled in all directions.

This can’t be good, right?

My suit won’t tolerate much more of this.

I feel like that elastic action hero from days of old.

So far there’s only some pressure on my joints.

They said that the suit would only stretch thin and not me.

But I’m also stretched thin.

In my mind at least.

T-minus-never will I be left at peace it seems.

Even in space, where I long to be.

Too many thoughts, too many demands on myself.

Pull, pull, pull.

They’re telling me I’m tolerating it well.

The suit that is.

Fabric that will keep me alive in deep space.

I wish they had invented something like this for my brain.

Stretch it, stretch, stretchity-stretch.

Then it all bounces back again.

Intact. Serene once again.

When was the last time I felt serenity?

I long for a vessel alone, in the quiet.

Where my mind is also silent.

No one but me and the stars and planets and quasars.

Where I can just be.

Where I wake up every day to zero to-dos.

Where my companions are comets and stars.

Where each moment is unscripted, unstructured.

Where no one calls my name.

Where no one asks me anything.

But now they are calling me.

Making sure I’m conscious in this testing module.

Where they pull, pull, pull.

I say the affirmative, wishing I weren’t.

Wishing it would all shut down.

Too many thoughts.

Longing for the silence.

Hopefully soon, I will be up there.

I just have to smile and nod for now.

Then without them suspecting a thing,

I will get my ship.

And I will take off.

Away from the pull.

Away from the noise.

Away from my thoughts.

With only the deep to welcome me.

Stretched Thin, Longing for the Deep © 2023 Cait Gordon. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction from the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. For more information, contact Cait Gordon.


A greyscale close-up of me, standing in front of a blank background. I am a white woman with short silver hair cropped closely on the sides. I am wearing dark metallic rimmed glasses with rhinestones on the side. I’m wearing silver hook earrings with flat beads and a plaid shirt.

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’CosmThe Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too. 

Featured photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com

seashore under white and blue sky during sunset

The freedom that comes from saying, “I can’t.”

CN: Mentions of mental illness, ableism, disability symptoms, and toxic environments

As a person who manages a chronic pain and fatigue disability, I’ve had to constantly “push through” my discomfort in order to have any semblance of a life. Sometimes I have aids like my mobility device to make things much easier on me, but even then, a rollator cannot take away my fatigue, pain, or complex post-traumatic syndrome disorder (cPTSD).

We disabled people are often subject to incredibly annoying and frankly obnoxious inspiration-porn stories about “overcoming.” Someone overcomes their mental illness or disability or whatnot and then this line is hurled at us: “So, what’s your excuse?”

My excuse, buddy, is shut the eff up.

Disabled people are not put on Earth to inspire you. Sorry to burst that bubble. And we are not a monolith. There is diversity of disabled experiences, even within the same disability. So maybe just try learning a thing about our community instead of telling us to suck it up. Because one of these days, we will collaborate and construct a high-tech yeet machine and have you visit the sun.

But back to my reality of “pushing through.” When one lives with a chronic condition, the line gets blurred about when one should just stop an activity or back away if a situation is causing one harm. It’s so easy to tolerate more mental and physical burden than I should because hey, it’s something I always do, right?

Except under no circumstances should I subject myself to further harm of my bodymind. I need to train my brain to act sooner.

There are so many “motivational” memes about saying “I can” to things, we forget the power of “I can’t.” We forget the freedom that “I can’t” brings.

Put up with gaslighting? I can’t.

Put up with being overly scheduled? I can’t.

Put up with a toxic environment? I can’t.

Put up with anyone or anything causing me harm? I can’t.

When I declare the “I can’t,” I’m really saying, “I won’t.” I use the word can’t because in my brain, it means, “I cannot allow that anymore.”

And when I act on the “I can’t,” a huge weight is lifted from my shoulders.

I tend to be someone who is a helper. That’s my nature. I’m told time and time again in therapy to remember to put myself first once in a while and not deny myself the things that bring me peace and joy. I’m a freelance editor and while I love making books shiny, I have to save time for my own writing. I am an author too. Writing stories is one of the most important salves that soothes my mental illness. In fact, I wrote The Stealth Lovers during a year of constant panic attacks, and it doesn’t read that way at all. It’s funny. And that’s because when I write, it’s like a protective dome drops over me that blocks out my stresses, and I just live in my world-building for a time. Speculative fiction is a godsend for me.

I have dedicated over a year to the Nothing Without Us Too anthology, which I love to pieces and am gobsmacked by the talent of our contributing authors. However, my writing got put on hold. So, while I am thrilled to promo this wonderful collection, I have to make my own works a priority.

So, “I can’t” create a work-life where there’s no space for my creativity.

Social media (SM) has offered me the chance to connect with so many wonderful folks, especially in the disability and neurodivergent communities. The ability to use SM and messaging to chat with people is an accessible form of getting together, which has saved my life during this pandemic era. But, as many of you know, SM can really mess with your mental health. I also think because I am autistic, I cannot be pummelled by too many opinions at once. It’s really difficult for my brain to parse through all that, and it becomes too much.

So, I can’t continue doomscrolling or even staying online for too long. I have to reconsider how to use it and who I want to follow.

Publishing has opened doors for me these past six-plus years. It’s been one helluva adventure. And again, I have met so many humans who have enriched my life. Have I ever learned so many things! Attending conferences and participating in and sometimes moderating panels have offered such an opportunity to grow, network, and make friends who share a love for books! Yet, sadly, in every circle, there can be people who maybe aren’t so healthy to be around, or who are outright hurtful.

So, I can’t align myself with publishing folks whose attitudes don’t lift others up or whose egos and entitled behaviour get in the way of creating a thriving and inclusive community.

In conclusion, saying “I can’t” is kind of awesome.

I highly recommend it.

My wish is for you to give it a whirl as you reflect upon your own life.

I bet you can!

(See what I did there?)


Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’CosmThe Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too.

Featured header photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the Mental Health Representation I Really Need Right Now

Note: Kinda sorta spoilery.

So, I am “I was a child when A New Hope came out” years old. I have been a massive Star Wars fan all of my life and a proudly self-labelled Star Wars Nerd. As an adult, I manage complex post traumatic syndrome (cPTSD), anxiety, and depression. My mental illness has been pushed to the outer rim during this pandemic too.

How do my geekness and my mental health make an unexpected pairing right now? Well, episodes one and two of Obi-Wan Kenobi dropped last week, and I could not have predicted their content for anything. Especially the state of Obi-Wan himself. I deeply felt the isolation and monotony his life had become, the rejection, the persecution, and the alienation from anything to do with his previous life when the Jedi council was alive. He was alone, he had night terrors, he felt hopeless and not like the person he used to be. He basically erased himself from himself. It wasn’t that he was merely hiding undercover to watch over ten-year-old Luke. He truly believed he was powerless.

Holy crap, I thought. Obi-Wan is depressed! He’s got PTSD!

I mean, of course he does! He’s been through the works, lost people he loved, and assumed he killed Anakin, his best friend who had been like a brother to him.

I was blown away by this writing choice because far too often, characters in SFF who seem larger than life tend to shake things off like Wile E. Coyote does an anvil to the skull. Obi-Wan’s mental health matters here, really matters to the story. It also matters to the viewers, folks who might be dealing with their own mental health, such as people who have had to remain isolated or whose lives have changed dramatically because of the ongoing pandemic. But even for reasons other than the pandemic, mental health issues exist. And I bet dollars to donuts that young fans who are depressed could think, “Hey, even a Jedi can feel the way I do. I’m not a freak!” It can be so powerful to see yourself in your fiction heroes. Sometimes transformative!

Now, I can write an entire blog on WEE LEIA!!! But it’s also interesting to me how she might be set up as a catalyst in Obi-Wan’s life. Maybe to provoke self-reflection. Maybe for him to remember who he is. In my life, I have always had those people run interference against my negative self-perception, and many times, they have no idea they’re meeting a need in me. Sometimes a person can randomly express how they view you, and it prompts you to remember yourself.

We know where Obi-Wan gets to in A New Hope, but I feel it’s really important for us to see him in a bad place mentally. It’s real, even in a galaxy far, far away.

I must say a great big thank you to the writers for taking this direction and to Ewan McGregor, who portrays this state of being so well, even wordlessly. It really came across to this space opera author who always wants to see more disability and mental health rep in SFF.

Seriously. Thank you.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is currently streaming weekly on Disney+. Content note: Episode One’s intro shows a flashback where children padawans and their teacher are running from Stormtroopers shooting at them.


ID: Headshot. Aqua background. Cait Gordon is a white woman with short silver hair and who is wearing teal metal-rimmed glasses and a navy blue V-neck T-Shirt

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’Cosm, The Stealth Loversand Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Her short stories appear in Alice Unbound: Beyond WonderlandWe Shall Be Monsters, Space Opera Libretti, and Stargazers: Microtales from the Cosmos. Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too anthologies, whose authors and protagonists are disabled, d/Deaf, Blind or visually impaired, neurodivergent, Spoonie, and/or they manage mental illness. 

The Wibbly-Wobbliness of Depression

Most people who interact with me in person or for the past 20+ months, virtually through video conferencing, know me to be a funny, laughing, and cheerful soul. Even these days.

And I am knee-deep in depression.

Before I go on, I want to let people know I am under the care of a doctor and a therapist, so don’t worry about me, okay?

But yeah, situational depression has walloped me hard. It has joined forces with perimenopause hormonal weirdness, and the seasonal fatigue of fibromyalgia.

A perfect storm of yuck.

I feel sad, for sure, and wiped. It’s hard to concentrate. Everything seems difficult to do right now. But on a day of me feeling really low, you might also find me posting about my latest book, my LEGO Star Wars Advent calendar mini-build, or how I was singing along to show tunes.

Depression isn’t always being sad and remaining under the covers. It can be a wibbly-wobbly thing. I can still laugh while managing a depression. I can even still be productive, socialize. But the underlying symptoms are still there. So, I need to keep in touch with my medical staff and be honest with my loved ones about how I’m doing. Since I also consider myself an advocate for mental health and normalizing its discussion, I am open about it on social media too. And, this blog.

Depression isn’t something to be ashamed of. For me, it can be a sign I have put up with a crappy situation for far too long and want the crappy situation to be yeeted into the sun. Yes, pandemic, this would be a subtweet about you if I had written it as a tweet.

Depression has been an unwanted visitor a few times in my life. I rate it zero stars. Mainly because my brain can be really mean to me and put me down a lot. One friend said my depression is jealous of me, and tries to keep me from seeing how awesome I am. (I need to bake this human a cake.) But yeah, depression for me tries to rob me of my joy. So an act of resistance against it is to seek out people and activities who/that stir joy.

One thing I have learned is how much I need people right now. I am ridiculously lucky, though. My critique group of authors are there to help me through the developmental writing phase. This is something I never really needed before, but I heckin’ value it these days! I have a relationship with my husband where I can openly talk about my mental health and receive support. My closest friends are also dealing with mental health issues, so we get each other. And I appreciate the support from the medical professionals who want me to thrive. I have zero shame in asking for help. I will wave the flag, ring the bell, whatever it takes to announce I need someone to keep me from sinking.

The timing of this wave of mental illness is interesting too. Work-wise, I mean. I am co-editing another anthology with my BFF, Talia C. Johnson (Nothing Without Us Too). It’s again a collection of stories from authors who are disabled, Deaf, Blind, Spoonie, and/or they manage mental health. If I had to work on any project while managing a depression, this is a good one. I know I am among my peers. So, how do I take on a project of this magnitude while depressed? Talia and I have a system designed for maximum Spoonie-ness. Plus, we’re really upfront and real with how we’re doing. But the stories lift me up as well. Knowing there are other authors in my community who are putting words together in this awful time feels like an act of hope—and rebellion, to be honest.

In my upcoming book, Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space, there is a senior officer who manages mental illness. I never reveal a diagnosis but refer to “peaks and valleys”. Depression can feel like peaks and valleys. The wibbly-wobbliness of depression in my experience means that it isn’t static. Some days suck to maximum suckage, other days are great, some are meh. I might react to depression by fighting it, or resting, or cosplaying a Barbie.

Creativity has always been a huge rescuer of my brain. I’m grateful I am still able to feel motivated for those things. Even turning my Star Wars mini-builds into ornaments for my tree has been fun. Cosplaying Barbies into Lartha and Iris from my book was special too. I say hi to them every day.

A miniature LEGO X-wing fighter hand on a Christmas tree, looking like it’s flying over LEGO buildings that rest on a red and white faux-fur tree skirt.
Deck the halls with pew, pew, pew!
A square cubby of a white wall unit features a Barbie with magenta hair, shaved on one side, brown skin, and who is wearing a black and grey uniform. She has two prosthetic legs. Right leg is in a tall black boot. Left leg is golden and in a short boot. There’s a rainbow Pride lego between the two women. The other woman has fair peach skin, platinum blond hair in a plait and is wearing a grey, silver, and beige uniform with short black boots. She is holding a low-vision cane.
Security Chief Leanna Lartha and Lieutenant Commander Eileen Iris

Oftentimes, I will be making some craft and getting really into it, then I’ll say to my husband, “I don’t know why doing this is so important to me right now.” And he’ll reply with, “Because it makes you happy. It’s good to do it.”

And that’s kind of it, isn’t it? Things don’t have to make sense as I manage this depression. If what I am doing brings joy and isn’t harmful to myself or anyone else, then that’s how I’ll ride out this whirly brain condition.

Just know that I will believe folks who can be happy and still insist they are dealing with depression. Totally understand what that means. My hope is that you get the supports you require to take care of you best. My wish is that you thrive to utmost thrivage. That’s not even a word, but I don’t care.

So, in closing, sure, it’s supremely difficult wanting to live through this muck, I mean, experiencing a situational depression where the situation is pan-global is so wicked awful.

But my greatest inspiration is spite.

I shall stay alive for spite.

Spite works.

You know, like, “Ha! I’m still here. Deal with it.”


Closeup of me. I'm a white woman with bobbed silver hair tucked behind my ear. I have a youngish face. I'm wearing a grey tee that has in old English font: "Hmmm..." Geralt of Rivia

Cait Gordon is a Canadian autistic, disabled, and queer author of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She also co-edited Nothing Without Us with Talia C. Johnson, a 2020 Prix Aurora Award finalist for Best Related Work that has thrice been part of a disability studies syllabus at Trent University. (The submission window for Nothing Without Us Too is currently open until Jan 31, 2022!) When not fine-tuning manuscripts, Cait advocates for disability representation and is the founder of the Spoonie Authors Network.

ID: tornado on body of water during golden hour

Arr Ess Dee, A Poem

My Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) has sent me into a tailspin this morning, so I wrote a poem about how it feels, as one does! Please note that these are just my own perceptions while in this headspace.

Arr Ess Dee

I’ve been inside the funnel
the tailspin, the cyclone
and I can’t get grounded
I can’t feel the ground

Refuse, garbage, disposable
Unworthy, failure, trash
There’s nothing redeeming
Whirl, whirl, whirl, whirl, whirl

I know my heart can be kind
My brain, it tries so hard
To show my love, to help
But my timing’s wrong

I learn, then fail, learn, then fail
Can I get it right?
Processing all of it
Swirl, swirl, swirl, swirl, swirl

Afraid to ask if I’m loved
Afraid I will to lose you
I stay in the funnel
It’s better this way

Rejection feels imminent
Cast off, cast away, cast
No chance of redemption
Whirl, whirl, whirl, whirl, whirl

I remain in the cyclone
Wishing for rescuers
Hoping beyond all hope
That person will be…

…myself.

Arr Ess Dee © 2021 Cait Gordon. All rights reserved. No part of this poem may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews. For more information, contact Cait Gordon.

Greyscale headshot of Cait Gordon wearing a dark shirt.

Cait Gordon is a Canadian autistic, disabled, and queer author of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She also co-edited Nothing Without Us, a 2020 Prix Aurora Award finalist for Best Related Work. When not fine-tuning manuscripts, Cait advocates for disability representation and is the founder of the Spoonie Authors Network.

DisArts and Mental Health

This year has been a roller coaster of awesome and awful. But the awesome is so far winning out! One thing that has been cool is how I’ve been able to virtually attend and participate in writers conferences, and another is being interviewed.

Last week, Derek Newman-Stille asked me questions about DisArts, which is art that is created by disabled artists and is an integral part of Disabled culture. They (Derek, I mean) asked me if I thought DisArts is the same as art therapy. I responded that while I believe art can be cathartic, DisArts is really about telling a story.

And this week, I lived out that response.

I go to therapy for my mental health on a monthly or so basis. It’s really important for me to have a psychotherapist as part of my Cait Maintenance Team. There’s a lot going on in this brain, and I often say it “feels full” at times. But one thing I also deal with is agoraphobia.

Now, the cosmic joke here is that in late February 2020, I told myself that I really want to focus on dealing with my agoraphobia. Little did I know two weeks later, everything would be shut down. And even today, my and my husband’s routine hasn’t altered from March because I’m very high risk.

So… um… well…

Fast forward to now. October is a complex month for me to get out because the weather affects my fibromyalgia. But there are also other factors that keep me inside (apart from COVID). My neighbourhood is very sparsely populated when it comes to walking outside, so I still feel it’s super easy to keep socially distant while taking a roll down the streets. (I use a rollator to walk.)

But something has been holding me back. At my last therapy session, we discussed my unwillingness to leave the house. My therapist is aware of my creativity and how I’m a spec fic author, so she encouraged me to try to break down the reasons why I can’t go out into characters. Immediately, I said, “I can draw this!”

Quick aside: I bought an iPad Pro 2020 and Apple Pencil. They feel like assistive tech for my hands. I used to draw all the time when I was younger, and even though I’m rusty, it’s euphoric to be able to draw again!

Back to the topic. I envisioned myself as the superhero of my own life, and imagined four supervillains who are out to prevent me from doing the things I enjoy. In order to draw the characters, I also needed to ponder their narratives. What was cool about this is that I ended up telling myself the story of what these issues mean to me as I experience them:

A woman with purple skin that shoots orange flame out of all the fibro pressure points. Even her hair is blue flame.
Fibromyalgia. She wields flame from all the pressure points and wants to prevent me from moving. Her skin is purple, which symbolizes bruising (and purple is the official ribbon colour of fibromyalgia), and her hair is blue flame. She never stops attacking.
A woman with short grey frizzy hair is dressed in a red leotard with a yellow belt that is sparking at the diaphram. Her right hand is on her mouth and her left hand is indicating me to   stop. Her boots look like grey concrete.
Anxiety. She’s both pale and flushed. She plants doubt and tries to stop me. Her red uniform symbolizes Alert Status Red. Her boots are concrete, which make me feel like I can’t step forward.
A bald white woman dressed in orange and ochre has firey sparks  emanating from her head. Her hands are reaching for her scalp.
Sensory Overload. Her powers are to emphasize visual and audio noise and touch to the point where I’m overwhelmed to do anything but flee. Orange is her colour because it feels like mental fires going off in my brain. Often Sensory Overload teams up with Fibromyalgia and Anxiety.
This sketch is all in blue . A blue- skinned woman appears to be fast asleep under a huge blue clouds. She almost looks dead, she’s so still.
Lethargy. She appears the most passive, but she’s extremely powerful. She puts my world in monochrome and makes me feel like there’s no point even trying, so I might as well sleep under the dark clouds. Lethargy works closely with Fibromyalgia to give me severe fatigue.

To be able to use DisArts as a way for me to understand what’s holding me back feels like a wonderful method for working through a challenge. And even though these supervillains represent really serious issues that impact my life, they are a visual cue to help me understand where my brain is at when faced with going outside. I’ve actually printed these drawings out and hung them on my fridge. The unexpected effect of them is that they cheer me up, because they are art I created myself, and I feel motivated to carry through with my exercise of dealing with my agoraphobia.

Because it’s true; I do feel like these supervillains are the actors that keep me from getting out. And next time I try to leave my house, if I feel held back, I will look at these women and ask myself who is teaming up against me.

Some days, they might win the battle, but I will win in the end…

…because I’m SuperCait. Ha!

(But no capes! A cape would only get caught in my wheels anyway.)


CaitG Headshot

Cait Gordon is a disability advocate who wants everyone to pummel that curve!

She’s also the author of Life in the ’Cosm and The Stealth Lovers. When Cait’s not writing, she’s editing manuscripts and running The Spoonie Authors Network, a blog whose contributors manage disabilities and/or chronic conditions. She also teamed up with Kohenet Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the Nothing Without Us anthology (a 2020 Prix Aurora Award finalist for Best Related Work) in an attempt to take over the world.

Person facedown under the covers. All we can see is their feet.

It’s been very hard to Cait this year…

I am naturally an upbeat person. I tend to want to have a good time, be silly, and dive into creativity. But 2020 has knocked me on my bottom. If you have been following this blog or my on social media, then you’re aware that I have frozen shoulder, or adhesive capsulitis. I have 24/7 pain, and I am dictating this post.

Don’t worry. I am in physiotherapy, and I will get better. It just might take a few months.

To make things super interesting, I am also going through screenings for three areas inside my body. (Because I really didn’t find the pandemic fun enough?)

My mental health has taken a beating, so has my physical health, and I think I’ve levelled up in my autism. It’s been really hard to return to the activities I love. I think I have reader’s block, if that’s such a thing. I don’t have writers block, but my shoulder injury is write-blocking me right now. I did manage to submit a short story, and it was fascinating to me how long it took me to write it. Only because I couldn’t operate the computer or sit long enough without excruciating pain. At least I did it though. And a sea-folk fantasy story with an all-disabled cast was worth the effort!

But yeah, investigating lumps and wee masses for possible cancer is not what I feel like doing right now; however, I’m really grateful that I do have access to testing. So I’m going to go focus on being thankful that I can get medical care. Mentally, I am hoping for the best, and bracing for possible things to come.

In the meantime, I might just plug away at a very slow pace with writing words. I have so many ideas floating through my head. I also bought something that I hope might help me write in a different way. Stay tuned, and I’ll let you know if it works for me.

But yeah, not sleeping because this pain is like a siren screaming all day and night is really affecting my ability to Cait Gordon.

And I think it’s also really getting to me that I couldn’t make 2020 my big marketing year for The Stealth Lovers and Nothing Without Us. I know there’s nothing I can really do about that, and other authors are going through the same thing, but it’s a bit of a bummer. I am super grateful for everyone who bought the books. Do please consider supporting authors with new releases or late 2019 releases. That would be lovely!

Anyway, I think I’m not only going to take things one day at a time, but maybe also even one hour at a time. It’s just the only way for me to cope right now. And my heart goes out to everyone who’s finding this year extra challenging with sprinkles on top. Here’s to coming through the other side of this!


Cait Gordon is a disability advocate who wants everyone to be wise and think of others as we battle COVID-19!

She’s also the author of Life in the ’Cosm and The Stealth Lovers. When Cait’s not writing, she’s editing manuscripts and running The Spoonie Authors Network, a blog whose contributors manage disabilities and/or chronic conditions. She also teamed up with Kohenet Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the Nothing Without Us anthology (a 2020 Prix Aurora Award finalist for Best Related Work) in an attempt to take over the world.

Logo text that reads: Nothing Without Us in black against a white background.

Holy stars, I did a thing!

As co-editor of the Nothing Without Us anthology, this last few weeks felt as if I were handed the baton in the second-to-final lap of a relay race while I cried, “Oh crap, I need to deliver this to the last runner!”

The “last runner” being the final production team at Presses Renaissance Press.

However, the edits got sent to authors, the stories came back, and then it was time for me to assemble them into the final manuscript. Talia and I agreed that two people doing this at once wouldn’t work. Anyway, this is kind of my jam because I used to prepare publications for proofing back in the ol’ tech writing days.

But wow, are things different now. Even though I advocate for disabled folks, and this anthology is all about works from disabled, Deaf, neurodiverse people . . . somehow I forgot I’m disabled, too. It boggles the mind, I know. Silly me.

Working to a deadline while managing an unpredictable neuropathic pain condition is super fun. Because, you know, of the unpredictable part. Like when you must send off a manuscript, and the body decides to deliver 8+/10 pain levels in all the fibro icky spots. Having my fingers flare up is not exactly convenient at times like this.

Nevertheless, I got through it and sent the entire manuscript off to the Editing Manager at Renaissance this afternoon. WHOOPEEE!

Now I want to sleep until they call me Rip Van Cait.

But I did the thing!

And when I see all these words bound in a book with its wicked cover, it will all have been worth it.

Actually, when I’ll read about how excited the authors are over getting their copies, it will be so worth it.

So, in conclusion:

YAY!


Cait Gordon, in a black and white digital sketch
Cait Gordon

Cait Gordon is a disability advocate and the author of Life in the ’Cosm and The Stealth Lovers (Fall of 2019). When she’s not writing, Cait’s editing manuscripts and running The Spoonie Authors Network, a blog whose contributors manage disabilities and/or chronic conditions. She’s also teamed up with co-editor Talia C. Johnson on the Nothing Without Us anthology (Fall of 2019.)