On December 23rd, Carrie Fisher suffered a massive heart attack on her flight from London to LA. She had been rushed to the hospital and it was said she was stable in the ICU as of Christmas Eve.
We had hoped for the best. After she had been announced stable, we had hoped she’d pull through. If anyone could, it would be Carrie Fisher with her resilient spirit and her inability to take anything lying down.
This morning, it was announced by her daughter that Carrie had passed away at 8:55 am. The world has been in mourning since.
This is the first celebrity obituary I’ve written, and I’m finding it hard to find the words that do Carrie Fisher justice. I didn’t know her–like most celebrities, she is a stranger to me, and
Her loss has rocked through the world as many, fans and co-stars both, have come forward to offer her family their condolences, to share memories of Carrie, to express their devastation in response to her loss. She was well loved and touched so many lives with her work as an actress, as well as her work as an author, an activist, a mother, a friend.
There are no words for her loss, but we can remember her through the work she’s done, and through the impact she’s made.
Carrie was relatable, charming in her own way as she cracked jokes about her discomfort around being a celebrity, as she spoke honestly about what it was like, from her end, to be the focus of so much attention. She advocated for mental health and shared her experience and struggle with addiction. She embodied what it was, to many people, to live and not be ashamed of her mental illness, of her flaws. She showed what it meant to fight and not give up, even when things got hard, because she still came out smiling in the end.
Carrie was an inspiration through more than the characters she portrayed on screen. She has shown the world that people don’t have to be ashamed of the things they struggle with, of the things they’ve overcome. She’s shown that a jewish woman can do anything, be anyone, and isn’t defined by her mental illness. She’s shown that celebrities are just as human as the rest of us, with their own fears and anxieties and dreams and aspirations. She fought for us, until we learned how to fight for ourselves. Though she might be gone, her fight, what she taught us, lives on.
As a young girl, I admired Leia Organa. As a grown, female-bodied human, I admire Carrie Fisher. I admire the woman who kept fighting. I admire the General she became, on and off screen: a champion activist for female voices, for those with mental illness, for those who struggle and fight and never give up.
We’ll keep fighting. Carrie lives on through us, through the issues she fought and pushed against and the ground she gained. We’ll fight, because we know she’d be proud of us. Because a jewish woman was a princess and a general who kicked ass and never gave up. Because someone with Bipolar Disorder didn’t let her mental illness define her, and she didn’t have to fight it alone. Because Carrie kept her head high through it all. She lives on because she was an inspiration to us all.
So, in honor of that inspiration, as requested:
She drowned in moonlight, strangled by her own bra.
Rest in Peace, Carrie Fisher.