The Prisons of Our Minds or Freedom From It

I am one of Top Bunkie's older sisters. I started this blog for her not long after she first "Flew Over The Chain Link". She had moved to Texas by then and was living near our other sister trying as she might, to get away from influences that were too tempting. She was scared and lonely. She was using a cell phone and whenever I would call, she would tell me she didn't have very many minutes left. I wanted to talk freely to her, so I set her up with an unlimited use land line and had her computer linked to it. A mutual friend funded the initial set up and I made sure her bill was paid every month. A small price to pay to be able to talk as long as we wanted to. We sometimes talked off and on all day. Believe it or not, over the phone, she and I worked together to get this blog up and running and her able to navigate the ins and out of the interwebby enough to see what she was doing. She had never had or used a computer of her own up to this point and it was boosting her morale and self confidence, and delighting me to see her feeling happier. She loved the sound of the computer booting up. She couldn't wait to get up and see if she had any emails. (You have to have something to get up for.)

My beloved lost sister is one of the saddest testaments to our bankrupt society. She should never have gone to prison. She needed love and understanding and help.

I'm her sister and knew her her whole life. As a tiny little girl she had mental anguish issues. She started out her life, fearing the future and trying desperately to control internal turmoil with things outside of herself. What we didn't know (as a society) then for helping people with this kind of mental suffering is part of what skewed her lifelong journey and left her, as Dr. Gabor Mate says, "In The Realm of Hungry Ghosts". She could never satisfy the disturbances in her brain and no one knew how to help her. It's a tragedy, heartbreaking beyond tolerance.

This blog is just a little glimpse into the talent and beauty of her. She was wonderful, and sorely to be missed. She had come back to where I live a few months before she left us all. We had some wonderful times, loving each other and being glad to be together again. It will be my life's biggest regret that I "encouraged" her to go to Texas in the first place.

What I have learned about addiction is that the best hope for anyone to recover is for them to be loved just exactly as they are.  I wasn't always able to do it. I wanted to, but it is very hard indeed. When you see a loved one suffering, you want to "fix" them. Have the answers. Find the cure. She loved me for my attempts to help.  It is unconditional love that can work miracles. Any kind of stress is the worst possible crippler . Treating someone in this condition to prison, should be a crime.

I saw the lead picture today on a blog entitled Suspension of Disbelief. I follow  Cristian Mihai and enjoy his writing.

Up until just recently, now nearly six months since her passing, I have been unable to believe I won't see her drive "Mitzi" (her little white Mitsubishi truck) up to my gate and see her and her flaming burgundy-red hair dance out of her car and up to me and hear here say, "Hi Says!". That's what she called me.

If only she could have found a place in her mind to go that felt safe and peaceful. If only.

I will miss her forever or until we are joined in Heaven. It will be a great day indeed.

I miss you so much, Poopsie.

Love, Says