Lessons from Carrie Fisher on My Birthday
A child of the 80’s who never got over Princess Leia being such a total badass (also, I really dig dinosaurs. I’m just sayin’)
A child of the 80's who never got over Princess Leia being such a total badass
(also, I really dig dinosaurs. I'm just sayin')
Photo by Joyce Adams on Unsplash
Today is my birthday, again.
And today I came across The Last Days of Carrie Fisher by Sheila Weller at LA Magazine. Many things in this piece touched me, but the ones that particularly stood out for me today, my 48th birthday, were the following:
Carrie wanted sobriety badly, but her sober periods often gave way to relapses, according to friends.
I feel this deeply in my bones.
The desire to reclaim my agency over alcohol after a half-lifetime of trauma poisoned my relationship with it. I feel this so deeply that my hips ache as I write this.
And yet I am not ready to say I do not drink wine.
No.
Not yet anyway.
Why?
Because my trauma isn’t my fault. It was the fault of acts of cruelty visited upon me since before I was born. It was the fault of bad DNA perhaps, or perhaps just the…
