Edited by Hope L. Nicholson, Love Beyond Body, Space, and Time is a collection of indigenous science fiction and urban fantasy focusing on LGBT and two-spirit characters. And my story, Imposter Syndrome is included, which is YAY! It’s the first published story I’ve had in six years, which coincides nicely with the birth of my amazing but attention-requiring kiddo! 

Imposter Syndrome is the short story of Aanji, a noncitizen artificial life-form who is desperate to escape a grim fate, using her human ancestors’ memories. Set several (hundred?) years after the events of Escape Light, it details one person’s attempt to reclaim her soul. It’s also very autobiographical in some spots, which is why I’m nervous and pleased as punch that the wonderful Hope L. Nicholson is publishing it, alongside amazing Indigenous authors like Doctor Darcie Little Badger, Daniel Heath Justice, Nathan Adler, Gwen Benaway, and Cherie Dimaline.

So if you like my work, make sure you preorder the book from Bedside Press, here. At just $10 it’s an amazing deal. It’s scheduled to be shipping from September 16th. I can’t wait for you to read it with me!

Natives get nothing for free. Nothing.


Estimates of Pre Contact North American population are 75-150 million Indigenous people. 525 years later there are only 6.4 million left . That's 68 million to 143.6 million people murdered. Not by accidental disease (it was planned) but by murder.  That's %95.6 of the total population of a people gone, with the remaining %4.4 survivors put into prisons, adopted away from families, and the survivors were  forbidden from practicing and maintaining their cultures. All so that the land could be "given" to Settlers. 

But we turned those prisons into the hearts of our cultures, we made the reservations our own, & we maintain our cultures. Our families are reuniting, our people keeping the histories and the sacred ways of our ancestors. Descendants of Settlers? We see you. 

We see your oilfields and mining operations and logging and city construction on the sacred land and bones of our people. We see you mocking our peoples and cultures as though we are long dead. We are not. We see the oil spills, the forest fires, the radiation leaks in the water. We see the inaction of your Environmental Profit Agency, the laws you write to make theft legal, the babies you've stolen. 525 years of Indigenous genocide and erasure, but we see you. We know your part in this. We see how you benefit from our deaths & erasure. Think long and hard on whose land you really sit on. Whose blood soaks the soil where your home is. Because we see you, & we remember. 

"That's all in the past! It has nothing to do with me!” you cry.


We are still being murdered by Settlers and the State. In Canada, USA, and Mexico. The Dakota Access Pipeline HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH YOU. Lands are being destroyed, along with the peoples, & it has everything to do with you. It's where your food, gas, & homes come from. TODAY. And the colonizers and settlers stole an entire people, from tribes and clans and lives of their own, and treated them worse than tools. Millions of lives interrupted so people could be brutally made into nothing more than labor units. From free humans to slaves, And now the freed descendants of those Stolen People have to fear for their lives from the police—groups created to hunt them. Kids shot dead. Mothers murdered. Therapists shot, lunchroom workers killed. No, the genocide continues in Native & Black communities.

And. It. Has. Everything. To Do. With. You. 

If you live in the USA, Canada, Mexico. Indigenous & Black Genocides, ongoing, and they are for your benefit. 



Very very Not Safe For Work: 
by @CyborgN8VMari 

People asked me to collect these in a book with illustrations, As I am too sick to do that, here's the list as is, with a few new editions. If you like this and my other tweets and work, please consider donating at http://paypal.me/CyborgN8VMari 


Oh you disappointing little poop turtle. You whiny useless tiny barfcricket. Go chew a urinal cake, you pubestink. 

You fart-stalking dickpacket, You strained ass-wine, You vile bloodsnot, Hold your sewer tongue and find a dung cave you donkey whiffer!

Your complaint is bullshit and you are a glass of recycled mule piss. Launch yourself into the sun, dirtfucker. 

Hi, you're a dumptruck of flaming shitmaggots. Fuck entirely the hell off the earth & give yourself a cactus enema.  

Bitchy McWhinePants is the best you can do, you pus-spewing fistula? You're more disappointing than a drunk Santa

Aren't you the cool apathetic cock-wart for trying to comment on shit you know fuck all about. 

Go chew a grenade, you sack of whining anuses. 

Haha what a pisshole. What a barking shit basket. What a cheese turd. You are hilarious, scumnuts.

It's okay to admit you're a marble-gumming toadfucker. 

You are so far wrong it's like you're trying to tie your shoes through your butthole. Just stop.

Fuck that and fuck you, pissmouth. Seriously close your tongue-hole, you're spilling urine everywhere. 

So again, you bullshitting sack of piss-fucking maggot magnets, get the fuck out. 

Tangling with terrible turdlets is so much more refreshing the work I normally do.

Staple your fingers to your anus and go self stimulate elsewhere, snailfucker. Your disingenuous vomit bores me.

Ask the proctologist who found your head, you fart cock. 

Well you are the most articulate witty sack of shit-covered duck penises ever to assume I give a flying fuck.

Why are you such a rectal vacuum? It's ok to just admit you're a turd-swamp.

Holy mice penises this thread exploded like a rabbit in a Viagra factory.

Or maybe it's god's way of saying you're a mouse-fucking vomit-box, you sentient rectum. 

Who ever called you that probably smells like stale skunk-farts and unwashed butt, and has  a truck of marbles shoved up their ass.

You’re a douche cannon. When you open your mouth douchebags just go shooting out everywhere.

 Your words sparkle with the same wisdom as emitted from a dying cow's ass, with twice the stink.

Listen,  you shitboxed piss ribbon, don't be such a fuck wall of assnozzles.

You ever wonder what a gnat-fart sounds like? It sounds like you, every time you open your mouth. Just endless high pitched peeping.

You’re like a tasty snickerdoodle, if they replaced all the doodle with cat-vomit.

Well aren’t you just a stack of puke pancakes soaked in shitfuck syrup and buttered with buttmuching ignorance?

I’ve seen pools of piss with better logic than you, poop-pony.

Oh go fuck a firehose up the nose, you vainglorious vomit-sack.

You are a rectal wart-goblin. See a proctologist and get your head fixed, buttface. 

Fuck you, you racist donkey-faced shit-yodeling fart-maggot.

Talking to you is like having sex. With a dental drill. Up the butt. While on fire. Listening to elevator music.  

Now staple your fingers together and eat a box of FuckOff Charms

You are a piss dribbling wrench-mouthed shitcock with your head so far up your ass you can kiss your prostate. Get the fuck out. My gods you are a privileged assboil,  you wheedling cock-slime, you fuckbarker, you shitpoodle. you cock-beetle, you fart-martini, you soggy crate of crap-covered yoyo-strings, you pusticled labial-wart,  you twirled poop twig. YOU UNDER CHEWED SHIT CARROT, YOU MISPUKED TATERTOT, YOU SNIVELLING BUCKET OF BUTTOCKS, YOU SMELLY FISHBANGER,  YOU DUCK-DICKED ASS BALL,  YOU SACK OF RECTAL SNOT.  YOU TREE SODOMIZER! YOU LEAF BANGING MONUMENT TO PARENTAL DISAPPOINTMENT! YOU SAND-CROTCHED FLEA FUCKER. YOU ENTITLED IGNORANT LITTLE  NOSEFUCK



How many Native Americans/ First Nations People/ Indigenous people do you personally know? Do you know how many Natives died this month? Not natural deaths, not “walking on,” but being murdered, or dying under suspicious circumstances? My answer by this writing, is at least 4, if not 6. Media attention is all over the horribly unjust killings of others this summer, but is relatively silent of the murders of Native people. 

oey Tiiah English Calgary, Alberta Canada
A Native woman, Joey English was dismembered, and yet the man caught for it was just granted bail. Joey Tiiah English was 25. 

Native man Cyril Weenusk was beaten to death last week while in Winnipeg Manitoba to help his dad with cancer treatments. There are no suspects. 

Jocelyn George Calgary, was arrested, and died the next day after one night in police custody. The 18 year old woman was a mother of 2.. 

Crow Agency Native Roylynn Rides Horse 28, of Montana was beaten and burned alive, dying much later in a hospital. 

Back in March ( 27 ) Loreal Tsingine was shot to death by police In Winslow Arizona. She was reportedly wielding a pair of scissors after being accused of shoplifting. Not guns. Scissors. 

There are over 2000 ( some reports estimate as many as 4000) Murdered or Missing Indigenous Women in Canada, many of whom vanished along one stretch of road informally called the Highway of Tears. 

Native Americans are the race/ethnicity with the highest number of people per million to be killed by police. (3.4 per million according to The Counted, a website that tracks People Killed by Police in the US.) So why is there virtually no news coverage of Native deaths? According to US Census Data for 2015, there are 4,500,000 Native Americans in the USA. Or as Siri puts it, statistically Natives just don’t exist. 



Native Dispatch News- At least I made a dent:

Highlight of my day, being blocked by JK Rowling after calling out her cultural theft of real Native beliefs as props for her "Magic In North America Series on Twitter:

Thankfully, I'm not the only one to call her out on this, but so far her publicist asserts JKR has "no comment" on the Issue. Well, that's just heartbreaking. She blocks critics and won't even address the issue at hand? Really sad when you consider that JK Rowling has more followers on Twitter than there are Natives and Indigenous people in the USA & Canada.  

All Bad News

Super bad not great really damaging court decision today:


it has me depressed and reeling.
Recap, SCOTUS ends abortion hurtles, but decides Native land claim cases too disruptive for NonNatives.It's ok when US disrupts tribes tho? There's no justice in this country for Native peoples. None. Not when the highest court of the Settlers decides it's disruptive. A fair hearing on Native land claims is disruptive. WHAT DO YOU THINK THE LAST 524 YEARS HAS BEEN FOR NATIVES?

Our identities as a people = based on our connection to our tribes & our lands, & SCOTUS won't even GIVE US A HEARING. Erasure = Govt policy.

"American Justice" isn't. Not for Natives. When you refuse to let a tribe have a hearing because it might disrupt NonNatives? No Justice.

JUSTICE FOR INDIGENOUS PEOPLE IS “TOO 'DISRUPTIVE' TO LOCAL GOVERNMENTS AND NON-INDIAN RESIDENTS" -SCOTUS. SCOTUS basically said no tribe in the US has a right to have their case about ancestral land claims heard, because that disrupts NonNatives Not a "no you're not right" decision, but SCOTUS won't even HEAR the case. After they admit Natives had been wronged. I'm reeling over this.

My feelings on the Shinnecock land claim dismissal are inchoate; rage and despair & mix of both. I suppose I should have expected this, because the Settler law system, like the rest of the colonizing infrastructure has only ever sought to erase & commit genocide upon Natives.but I can't work up the cynicism necessary to be protectively jaded by this. It hurts. & reaffirms my fear that whiteness = always the enemy

status quo?

If you needed proof that the government, or rather the oligarchy conglomerate megacorporations  behind the government doesn’t actually care about any of us, not me, not you, no one, take a look at how much money they poor into lobbying against gun control, against LGBTQIA rights, against removing money from elections. Every shooting is damning evidence that the OCM-government has zero interest in the welfare of the people it feeds off of and controls.  To the OCM-government, shootings are population control. Oh sure, there may be trials or token statements and lip service paid via “thoughts and prayers and the call to act”, but I guarantee you no real action initiated in the snake pit of self-serving vipers they call Congress will ever make it far enough to mean something. War, the weapons of war, are far too profitable compared to our lives. Proof? Look at our military budgets versus our healthcare spending.

The OCM likes things as they are.



Oh hello there.....

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged in long form. My apologies. Life has been much the same, except worse in many areas, whilst surprisingly better in some. I’m not sure if I’ve said this before, but I’ve made one short story sale, and I’ll have deets on that in the coming months. I’ve also had three lovely rejections of another short story, but I just put a pitch in for that one at a different publication. So fingers crossed. And of course the novel is currently being reviewed by an agent. Tenterhooks!

I’m taking a break from my MMO of choice, just due to health and financial considerations. I found myself getting into protracted discussions on Twitter that just don't make sense to me right now, and I just don't have the energy for it.

My health continues to deteriorate, and my SSDI check won’t cover the things Medicare doesn’t, like certain types of necessary medications to treat some of my infections, or long term hospital stays, or dental, which is causing me significant oral health issues. Between the spinal stenosis, the badly decaying teeth, the cellulitis infections, the deep bone pain, and my dyscalculia, my cerebral palsy and oh yes, my mental illnesses (anxiety, PTSD) my body is trying its absolute hardest to kill me.

Basically my body is in agonizing pain all the time now and I can’t afford treatments to fight it on my own. So I need to conserve what energy units I have and fight what battles I can.

The pain is rendering me useless. Infections persist. Doctor prescribes medicine insurance won't cover. I’m more tired all the time. This is life now?

if all my health issues were financially covered? I could be working 80 hours a week in 3 months. But each new health emergency drains me badly, but it's either pay rent + bills, & or get enough groceries or skip some bills this month. Health care still extravagant luxury

I've become a large burden to my wife, who works 2 jobs and helps raise the boy, & to my aging mom, who can't be my caregiver. Everyone in my family has been wonderful, but the burden I am strains them, & sometimes I feel their resentment at my uselessness crawl on my skin.

Two years ago the shame of asking others for help burned me. Now I just feel sick, and tired. I try to carry on, but agonizing pain interrupts.

And of course, the physical ailments pile on with the mental illnesses, the depression. I’m sure most readers don’t want to read these negative, whiny thoughts, & I get exhausted reading sympathy replies, but I just can't functionally hide this ugly part of me. I'm not even asking for anything. Just getting these words out. Putting form to the hurts, the feelings.

 Sorry. & now, a joke. Man 1: Ask me what the most important part of comedy is. Man 2 "OK, What's the most imp-" M1"TIMING!"

Supaman and world champion dancer Acosia Red Elk team up on this visually stimulating video for the song called "Why" which is featured on Supaman's forth coming album titled "ILLUMINATIVES". COMING SOON! Directed by Tom Clement

Hello 2016! My 2016 Reading list!

My reading list of 2016 so far includes Nnedi Okorafor,’s Who Fears Death? http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004XFYIE2/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?ie=UTF8&btkr=1 

Daniel José Older’s Shadowshaper, http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00Q5LJFJA/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?ie=UTF8&btkr=1  

Louise Erdrich’s The Round House, http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B007HC3UF6/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?ie=UTF8&btkr=1 

Charlie Jane Anders’ All the Bird In The Sky, http://www.amazon.com/All-Birds-Charlie-Jane-Anders-ebook/dp/B00W190RPG

and Cindy Pon’s Silver Phoenix.  http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0026SCN54/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?ie=UTF8&btkr=1 

I NEED MORE NAMES! HALP! Writing continues apace. Sort of. 

Goodbye 2015

I have a story coming out next year!
the book will be sent out to agents on my Birthday in February.

That's my deadline.

I'm busy living and writing, but I'll leave you with a poem I wrote.
(with thanks to Bogi Takács for the writing advice)

Colossal Prank

justice, much like faith,
is a faerie-tale, 
wrongs done
cannot be made right not when
the killer is a white man and
the victims looked too dangerous,
too black, too transgender too
Cheyenne-Arapahoe, too female,
too Muslim

America, land of the free, much like hope
is a bed-time story we tell ourselves, hands
red from the days denials, justifications, 
righteous prayer to our pale-skinned

god damn us all.
He was only 12
She was unarmed,
They were only walking
but the Second Amendment
craves more blood
to water the tree
of patriarchy.
I’m sorry, patriots
those that die so we can be free
Tamir , Bettie, Paul, Yvette, Tanisha, Akai, 
on and on a thousand names more

Emma’s poem, “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,”

is just a joke now, don’t you know
it’s all been a joke back since Wounded Knee
Justice, indeed.

Bang Bang Kid. The Shootout Solution Review

I received an Advanced Review Copy of The Shootout Solution: Genrenauts Episode 1 by Michael R. Underwood, the author of the Ree Reyes Series, Shield And Crocus, and The Younger Gods. I was not in any other way compensated for this review.

Let’s get something out of the way: I hate and love serialized fiction. Good serialized fiction hurts the worst, and therefore gets my hate more than bad serialized fiction, which I just drop after a certain point (Stephen King’s The Plant comes to mind.) Great serialized fiction, (like Claire Monserrrat Jackson’s Blood Ties series) delivers more story per square inch in a single episode than some bloated fantasy Decalogies in their entire ten novel run.

In that sense, Michael R. Underwood’s Genrenauts feels like a strong start to a great series. Snappy dialogue, twisting plot turns, and efficiently written action scenes combine with a strongly realized protagonist that reminds me of a old friend from my art school days, not a cardboard cut-out of the “strong female character” trope.

Leah Tang, flailing comedian turned improvisor extraordinaire is handed the weirdest opportunity of a lifetime, (and rocket ships, and a six shooter) before she gets tossed into an hilariously exciting adventure that shows sometimes the heroes aren’t the only ones who save the day.  

Leah gets a surprising bit of breathing room to show off her personality of a decidedly strange world in this quick introduction to the series. If there is a flaw in the serialized fiction format, it’s that this character development comes at the expense of Leah’s team-mates, a few of whom seem to have just as interesting backstories as Leah. This seems especially true for one of the characters backstory which feels like a last minute inclusion to tick a box, instead of part of who the character is. THANKFULLY Michael R.Underwood has promised me via email that each of the teammates gets their own spotlight in Season 1, while some are even getting more stories in an anthology. (YAY)

The first “episode” contains just enough twists to bend my brain, which makes it compelling fiction, and I read it in a single sitting. Don’t worry, it’s not a short story, it clocks in at just under thirty thousand words, so you definitely get your money’s worth from the experience.  

This series episode will be quite enjoyable for fans of Quantum Leap, Jim C. Hines’ Magic Ex Libris series, any of the Buffy Whedonverse, or of course fans of Ree Reyes from Geekomancy and Hexomancy. I loved it, personally—but I’m biased towards the deep pop culture references, the meta-story story, and the hint of worse to come. And that’s why I also hated it. Now I have to wait for the next episode to come out.

The Shootout Solution (Genrenauts Episode One) is available for preorder from this page here and will be available to read on November 17, 2015.


S.L. Huang’s ROOT OF UNITY is the latest in the Cas Russell series ( Russell’s Attic Series) and it is nearly a nonstop adrenaline bang-up car-wreck of an amazing ride. The TL;DR is BUY THIS BOOK AND THE REST AND READ THEM IN A SINGLE GO.

  Buy:    Amazon    *  Amazon UK    *  B&N      *  Kobo  *  Apple    

Buy: Amazon * Amazon UK * B&N Kobo * Apple

Fresh from her adventures in Book 2 ( HALF LIFE)  Cas finds her morality-map fraying at the edges, and her usual coping methods are collapsing around her, at the worst possible time. The third book in the series sees her lethal brand of math-fu joining forces with a hacker named Checker, and a former private investigator named Arthur to find a kidnapping victim, and apparently the answer to a math problem that would change the world forever.

The stakes are higher for everyone this time, with Cas’s calculus martial arts ratcheting up even as she personally begins to fall apart. Expect no easy answers, and the slow simmering build-up to the Twist is presented excellently. Huang’s prose disappears behind the story, which is by turns hilarious (“He’s fine. He had a building fall on him.”) tragic and always action-packed. As someone who HATES math (I have dyscalculia) I love how the story presents mathematical ideas in a way that a total non-numbers type can follow, and the plot never slows down for it. 

Cassandra Russell is an excellent heroine, a woman of color who is bad ass, not beautiful, competent, not cute, and would likely hold her own against James Bond and Indiana Jones. Huang’s a rising talent in the sci-fi world, and I would not be surprised to see her books optioned in Hollywood soon. 

S.L. Huang’s book is tightly written, and is a perfect example of a compelling page-turner. I read it in two sittings, in the middle of the night and as soon as I woke up the next morning. 6 out of five stars. 

Book Review: Claire Monserrat Jackson

Blood Ties  Part One: Daddy’s Little Girl by Claire Monserrat Jackson is available at Smashwords and Amazon

Every once in awhile there comes a writer whose prose is so elegant, they change the river of literature in their wake and leave an indelible fingerprint on the landscape of the reader’s imagination. Such rare treasures are often buried deep in the sea of good-to-mediocre, their diamond presentation just waiting for the right time, the right hands. Thankfully, at last I can say that Miss Claire Monserrat Jackson is such a jewel. You’ve the hands, dear reader, and the time is right now.

Some who want everything for nothing will complain that the serial is too short for its price, and although I agree with the former I vehemently argue against the latter. For the price of a cuppa, you get a tiny puzzle box world so intricate and detailed and layered with meaning that it might well take multiple readings to see all the carefully crafted gear work moments of confusing perfection. Monserrat Jackson’s prose weaves its way through mythology and history in a dance that’s familiar, yet eldritch and alien giving you a dystopian afterworld gilded with gods and myths of the past wrapped up in passages that yearn for Sam Spade’s office.

Claire Monserrat Jackson’s heart beats on the page, the blood in the words and the ink, and the work is better for it. Our protagonist is a woman of color (and song!) and from what I can guess, at least a little more than Queer in the LGBTQIA sense. Which, frankly, in a world with too many white male heroes, is a giant relief. People want diversity in speculative fiction, and Miss Monserrat Jackson serves it up on a plate of caviar prose. Make no mistake, she’s a genre breaker, delivering such a svelte story so impressively drenched with just the perfect detail to leave you in the moment of that world.

If I haven’t impressed this upon you yet let me scream it from the roof tops. Blood Ties: Part One is an amazing masterpiece of urban punk noir, and you should buy it yesterday. 

Some notes: Although I was given access to an advance copy, I purchased mine, and was not paid or otherwise coerced to do this review. She's just that good. 


Work in Progress from the sequel to Guns Of Penance:
(Which is free August 18th ONLY)

"Ceras frowned, and popped the passenger door of her car open for her lover. The scissor door slid up towards the sky and the front of her Spyker C9 Aileron, and Ceras frowned as she saw a helicopter swing sharply back towards them two city blocks away.
“Jenna!” Ceras called out as her hand went for the gun clipped to the magnetic holster on the dashboard.

Jenna’s face slid from anger to wide eyed confusion just as the helicopter finished the turn and started firing from guns mounted on the right side of the aircraft. The eerily familiar pop-chopping sound of the heli’s guns spilt the air apart as rounds exploded in the street sending chunks of asphalt and clouds of dirt skyward.

Jenna started to turn but then felt a chill down her back and a cold bead of sweat slip down her temple, tracing the line of her cheekbones. Something in the air shifted, the sort of thing that makes hair on the back of the neck rise, the way it feels just before a lightning storm in the summer, or an earthquake about to happen.

Before she could move there was a searing pain in her calf and right arm, as if wasps the size of baseballs punched holes through her body with 9 mm stingers. A microsecond later the pop-pop of gunshots rang out, and as she fells the pain blossomed from tiny sparks in an ocean of darkness into a raging ball of fire, like two small stars burning as bright as if the sun had taken up residence in her body. We are all made of stars, she thought in a crazy moment that made no sense.

Then her head hit the pavement."

-Blades Of Lucifer

Status update

I am sooooo tired of pretending I am ok. Listen, here it is. The spinal stenosis is bad. The infection that put me in the hospital 3 times is back. I'm bleeding pretty much every day. I have ratchety hole filled teeth. Essential meds I need are running out and I don't know how to get more since my Doctor has decided he's no longer my Doctor. So that means the anxiety is up. Which means it's harder to do basic tasks. The depression—emotional dampening field is in full effect. Basically the only emotions I have access to now are dread, anger, and sadness. The writing, the art, all of it feels beyond my grasp right now.

"Hug your son,"
"Hang in there,"
"You have my prayers,"

There, I said the words for you, so please don't say them back to me. Hugging my son does NOTHING, except maybe increase my sense of dread that I am failing him in ways I can't even perceive, and consequently, increase my shame and self-hate at being a failed mom. And don't get me started on "Hang in there." What am I hanging with exactly? My hands? My neck? Everything hurts and I feel like I'm choking to death. Got it.

Look, I'm sorry. Well wishes allow people to express the fact that they empathize with me, and were I not so exhausted and tired of literally being so sick and tired I'd offer my sincere thanks, but right now all I can really do is withdraw and try my best to be polite without downright lying to anyone.


I am now in the eating peanut butter sandwiches and ramen phase of my career as a writer. The muses are back, but only for fanfiction. Ideas are percolating but ideas don't get new doctors to help fight recurring cellulitis infections, or help me solve the gap between my rent (rising) and my income (flat zero.) Not to mention surgical funding for other treatments Medicare just hates to cover ( even though they say they will,) and $ for meds.

In other me-news (???) I found myself involved in Twitter's ‪#‎TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs‬ hashtag recently, and at first my tweets were kind of "meh," but by the final few I was bawling my eyes out.

My remarks:
#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs everyone's like "Stop being lazy and faking it." As if I'd choose this hell for fun.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs holding your son who is asking you why are you crying, & hating yourself because you can't stop-or feel joy.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs hating yourself because you can't feel joy for your family whom you love, & seeing their disappointment

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs not feeling anything but sad, angry, and self hating anymore because of chemicals in the brain.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs being powerless to stop it from wrecking your marriage the resentment your spouse has because she needs you.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs trying meds, therapy & hospitalization & seeing it all fail when insurance runs out & you can't afford it.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs suicide is illegal but no one will help you endure the day after day hell of living-yet demand you not give up

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs living with it for 30+ years, people can't or won't help you & you have to "chin up." w/o begging for help

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs putting on a brave face, saying "I'm fine" when asked, staying awake at night in terror & crying in secret

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs knowing that if I kill myself someone will say, "Why didn't she say something, someone should have helped."

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs the absolute worst is getting up and TRYING for my son in the hopes he doesn't get depressed either.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs trying to explain to a 4 year old boy why mommy is sad all the time, & the shame I feel for having to.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs watching people trying to console you with words or gestures & feeling empty because no one votes for change.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs not having the guts to tell people their hugs and words of consolation are like the goggles, they do nothing.

#TheWorstPartOfDepressionIs eating to feel better & people say "why are you so fat, loser?" & then you feel bad so you eat even more.