Today was the day the hammer came down. Today was the day we lost Carrie Fisher. As rough as all the deaths of 2016 have been for me, this has been the hardest by far. I’ve called her ‘Momma Carrie’ almost as long as I’ve carried my bipolar diagnosis, and my non-existent bucket list included two things, one of which was meeting her and getting a hug. I totally would have dreams about that sometimes, and they were as soothing as fresh laundry. That’s obviously not going to happen now. But more, she was just a freaking amazing human being. She was a talented actress and author, script doctor, and I loved seeing her and her service dog Gary getting around. She was just… so genuine and open and blargh. I guess I do have words. They’re just sort of flailing around mixed in that heart-clenching sadness that deadens everything.
I felt a little bad about it, ’cause like… the kids. They were still their bubbly playful selves and I was like, nope, leave me alone, can’t deal with it. Smallhausen is a good sort though and understood that I wasn’t trying to be mean or inattentive… just that I was processing and wanted a little space. She came over and gave me a big hug, and tried to get her head around it. I certainly can’t be mad at her for not processing why this is important to me, to us. Z is upset as well, obviously. We’re both Star Wars fans on top of any other feelings we have towards her as a person, and while it’s nice to know that Episode VIII wrapped before she died, that was certainly the least of my concerns.
I’m going to go curl back up with some Pokémons and Sims. Yeah, trying some Sims 4, as Z encouraged me to buy the expansion pack that I didn’t have, as it was on half price. So I’m tooling around living in an apartment, and maybe grudgingly liking some of the mechanics applied to the relevant neighbourhood.
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