Charlotte Dawson was almost painfully open and honest about her life and her struggles. She was happy to share both her strength and fragility. If she only knew how much she was admired. If only she knew we were all rooting for her.
At first I couldn’t quite process the death of Charlotte Dawson.
To me, she has always been the perfect blend of fierce strength and human frailty. The thought of her succumbing to her illness never occurred to me, despite how close she’d come, because she was such a fighter. I knew she’d be okay, I just knew it. At first I wanted to believe her death was an accident. I started reading everything I could find about her.
Then my mum rang me sobbing hysterically. “I can’t believe it Jo. I just can’t believe it.” Mum hasn’t cried like this over a celebrity death since Princess Diana met her untimely end.
We spent the day phoning each other every time we heard something new about the days leading up to her death. We weren’t trying to be voyeuristic. We were just trying to figure out how someone who we admired so much could lose touch with how much she was loved, but that’s the nature of mental illness. It disconnects you from what is real and leaves you floundering.
It is understood Dawson, 47, was found dead in her luxury Woolloomooloo Finger Wharf apartment by a security guard. Her real estate agent rang the building because they couldn't contact her. Friends were already concerned due to her behavior in recent weeks but also because her Twitter account had remained untouched for 18 hours.
Watching Dawson on shows like Beauty and the Beast, particularly when she was teamed up with the late, great Stan Zemanek, and you could only describe her using words like bubbly and fierce. She was hilarious and didn't hold back. Remember when she stepped in for Jodhi Meares to host the live finale of the first season of Australa's Next Top Model?