Thank You Carrie Fisher

​My grandfather took me and my cousins to see Star Wars when it first came out. I got about halfway thru before I couldn’t take it anymore. It was my first sci-fi movie and I thought it was fucking stupid. I remember the characters jumping into a trash compactor and then getting out with their clothes and their hair perfectly clean. I said, ‘That didn’t happen!’ and left the car to go lurk around the drive-in to see if I could see any female bottoms. I’ve never been able to do that whole ‘suspending disbelief’ thing.
 
So I don’t remember Carrie Fisher in Star Wars. But I followed her work off the big screen. I’ve seen her in countless interviews and read about her life, and I’ve always appreciated her bluntness and irrepressible sense of humor.
 
She was never ashamed that she was bipolar. She was proud of how she lived with it and people with manic depression have probably never had a better advocate. She had a great life and I’m always happy when someone who is a manic depressive dies of natural causes. 

​Carrie Fisher talked about her mental illness way before it was cool to do so. And she did it with grace and humor.