Sheridan Smith once faced a public unraveling, a period she now describes as a “meltdown.” But the story behind the headlines was far more complex than anyone knew, rooted in a devastating cycle of grief that had haunted her for decades.
In 2016, while starring in a West End production of *Funny Girl*, a performance abruptly ended after just fifteen minutes. Reports surfaced of slurred speech and a loss of balance, initially dismissed as “technical difficulties.” The incident quickly spiraled, fueled by rumors of missed curtain calls and accusations of substance abuse, ultimately forcing Smith to withdraw from the show citing stress and exhaustion.
The truth, she reveals now, was a crushing weight of “double-grieving.” Her father, Colin Smith, had recently received a cancer diagnosis. This loss echoed a past trauma – the death of her 18-year-old brother, Julian, to the same disease when she was only eight years old. The resurfacing pain proved unbearable.
Her father’s passing at the end of 2016, with Smith at his side, intensified the anguish. Now, returning to the stage in the play *Woman In Mind*, where she portrays a woman experiencing a breakdown, feels strangely cathartic. She embraces challenging roles, seeking authenticity and a chance to channel her experiences.
Smith admits to feeling deeply embarrassed by the public nature of her struggles. “I felt ashamed,” she confessed, “and I still sometimes feel it, like, ‘Oh, I wish that part of my life hadn’t happened.’” She compares the experience to a permanent mark, like a tattoo she regrets but cannot erase.
The fallout extended beyond the stage. At the 2016 TV Baftas, a seemingly innocuous joke by host Graham Norton struck a devastating blow. Norton’s quip about “technical difficulties” felt like a cruel mockery of her private turmoil. Unbeknownst to anyone, Smith had abruptly stopped taking her anti-anxiety medication that very night.
The consequences were immediate and terrifying. Smith suffered a seizure and was rushed to the hospital. A friend’s quick thinking and intervention proved life-saving, as abruptly stopping the medication triggered a dangerous reaction. She credits that friend with saving her life.
Looking back, Smith acknowledges the incident wasn’t anyone’s fault, but a result of her own fragile state. She believes the climate has shifted, becoming more sensitive, and such a moment might be handled differently today. Following the ordeal, she retreated to the countryside, seeking solace and space to grieve her father’s death.
Now, Smith feels stronger than ever. She finds liberation in portraying a character grappling with a breakdown, allowing her to explore those dark emotions safely on stage. “I’m leaving it all on the stage and not actually having one in real life,” she says, a testament to her resilience and hard-won peace.
