The Rising Page

My Musings

22 February


The beginning has always been the hardest part for me to write. I am never confident enough with my beginnings. And then I start and what I intended to write is not what I write.

Today is different though. This entire weekend has been different. I’m seated in my pajamas and fluffy pink socks in the little lobby-ish area of the 18th floor of the Westin Hotel. Looking out the window, onto the road that was covered with snow not so long ago. In front of me as well is an alley way…You know the kind from those bad scenes in the movies, it’s complete with smoke or steam coming out of one of the buildings. If you cannot tell yet, I happen to be stalling.

I never planned today, and it should not have gone down the way it did. If there are two things I have grown a disdain for they are ministry/vocation and depression/addiction/suicide. What does disdain mean anyway? Yeah, the words have gone and left me once again. Tears seem to be much closer than any words. Okay, lemme do this again.

My dad died in February 2013. My grand-pa followed him in December 2013. April 2014, part of our home was destroyed and my gran was told she was sick. the bad kind of sick. My best friend and boyfriend and I broke up in May 2014. July 16th 2014 was the day I got rejected again. There was a firm no over the phone and the reasons why. It was also the day I stopped looking in the mirror. It was also the day I lost my appetite. It was also the day that I gave up. I gave up living. I gave up trying. I just gave up. It was the day that I could tangibly define pain, sorrow and loss. It was the day I considered for the first time in a long time – who gives a shit anyway. Let’s just end this.

I’d thought so before, but nobody knows. Or maybe nobody wants to know. More likely the latter. Must have been high school (2001) – s.4. vacation – I was just tired. Tired of life. Tired of the pressure. Tired. She returned. I have been living with her since July 16th 2014.

I have been told a lot of things over these past few months

“You are strong. You are a strong woman.” – No. I really am not. The thoughts my mind has entertained would let you know that I am not – but you do not ask. Why don’t you ask?

“You deserve better. ” – Do you really mean that? Or are you just saying it because you pity the 28 year old who has failed yet again. What do you know about me that makes you think I deserve anything? Do you know anything about my story or only what you have heard, seen and you mind has decided to compose?

“You will get through this.” – How? Can you tell the future? Did God really reveal that to you or are you just running your mouth? Had you been praying then maybe you would have seen that just the other night I hang a towel over my mirror because I could not stand to look at myself.

“Oh My goodness, you are still in the same spot? What is wrong with you?” – What is wrong me? That is a good question because I would also like to know what is wrong with me? I would also like to know what is wrong with me? I ask myself that question also with the same disdain that is written in your voice.

“Why are you loosing weight?” – Well, because I simply have no appetite to eat. No. I mean that literally. I do not have the appetite. It’s not even the type of food. I used to like eating. Now I do not.

It’s in these dark hot spots that your friends get sieved through – Everyone has their own lives and besides, if they really wanted to concern themselves with your story, then they would have asked you. No. Actually, the would have talked to you with out you chasing after them and harassing them. If people really cared, may be they would speak up and stop acting like… Well, like nothing. Like nothing. nothing. nothing. that is what is happening. nothing.

I went for a session today and listened to people tell their stories of survival. I listened to broken hearts hurt by loved ones they lost and thought, what if I could have done more. I thought to myself, this is not me. I am not part of them. They have real stuff that they are dealing with, I have nothing. I am not like them. I am the strong woman, remember.

I am the strong woman. The one supposed to get A’s. The one supposed to get a job. The one supposed to have a career. The one supposed to have the answers. I am the one supposed to be strong.

Tonight, I watched this movie… #twlohaMovie. I thought to myself… Now this is a strong woman. Look at what she has had to live through and yet still come out strong. I thought to myself… I am not like her.

Tonight. You now know.

Do not ask me how I am or whisper how is she? I still know God. I still acknowledge Jesus. We do not get to talk about these things. We do not get to discuss them. We do not understand these things nor do we want to. We would rather not deal with them. They are too messy.

and No. This is not one aspect of my life.
This is my life.
Now you know.

and in the usual fashion, this is not at all what I intended to write but then again, this blog is supposed to be closed anyway…

03 August

The Last One

I was in bed, contemplating sleep but this post just wont let me go!


You see, I made an announcement on Social Media about archiving therisingpage because it is an idea that has been on my mind lately.

Writing has always been with me, My late dad was in love with literature and so I grew up around books. I was in P.5 when I wrote my first short story, in S.4. when I wrote my first complete book and after University when I started this blog.

I used this blog as a place to share my thoughts with the world and if you did not like, too bad, there was always the unsubscribe button. Used this place to vent, promote, figure life out, make a stand, encourage others, inspire and once in a while a story or two would come out.

But sadly, I let my love for this be stolen from me. I was wide awake when I saw this happen but like the late Steve Jobs says, You only connect the dots in retrospect. I no longer write because I am burdened to get it out or dying to make a statement. No, instead, I have chosen to be enslaved by my thief constantly writing toward them.

Sigh… So like a lot of other things in my life, I am making a conscious decision to let this one go. To those of you who have been on this amazing journey with me since 2008, I cant really explain how much you mean to me!

Until MizPage truly rises again, we shall return to good old pen and paper.

I leave you with this:

The Waves still crash against the rocks; And sometimes they go against each other.

The Wind is still in such a hurry; Where to is still a mystery.

The sun still burns bright at high noon; And my heart still falters at the thought of you.

Even though the three stars are faded; The ring still goes round and round like it was new.

Though my knees are scared and my voice coarse; My heart still waits on the whisper.

Like the wind, everyone else is in such a hurry; But a rock with roots is hard to move.

So evident now, is a burden so true; Our promise will have to wait – Indeed it will.

Our warrior of old, courageous, humble and true; Pure of Heart, defender of God.

Who’s Faith and Passion amazed us both; He too will have to wait.

Until whenever…

I remain:

Lady Page Of the House of Edge

(a.k.a MizPage, TheRisingPage, DJTRiP)

22 July

Dear God

Dear God,

I wish I had words eloquent enough to express what I am feeling.

I know you exist but why is it so easy for me to seek comfort in my doubt when I should be running to you.

Today, surrender stood out – but not in the worship way. In the reality way.

Can surrender be surrender if we are not letting go of what we hold dear? According to history and most probably English as well >> to surrender is characterised as “giving up”. But when it comes to you, is it really to give up but more to entrust?

A silent whisper that says, “Here, Lord have this as well.”

A secret knowing that repeats, “Rest. All is well”

A word that resonates in the deep secret places.

…You are enough…

21 July

The Great Unknown

I fear that I have been flung in it.

The great sea of life, with never a calm moment.

Turbulent waves, here.

Violent waves, there.


They should have given me a boat.

Maybe a life jacket or some other kind of floatation thingie.

Instead they gave me words.



What good are words?

Ahh… This great sea of life, with never a calm moment.

Yes, I fear that I flung myself in it, once again.

05 July

Looking Back… May 2014

Nothing seems to compare the euphoria that surrounds living in denial.

Nothing like an attempt to ground yourself reality while secretly hoping against hope.

Nothing like secret hope that so quickly fades as soon as doubts kick in.


Doubt is not the right word,

Heartache is more accurate.

What do you do with heartache?

What can you say to someone afflicted with this?

Should they hope or not.


My reflection smiles back.

A sad knowing smile.

I slam the door; Maybe the mirror will shatter

I will not have to look upon such a flawed reflection

Yet it’s thoughts like these that lead down a dangerous path


Reach out; Reach up

You are stronger than this

You will get through this

Does anyone ever believe any of that


It’s the darkness that creeps into the light that moves the fastest

The contrast should be obvious yet we are so oblivious to it

It’s in hidden conflicts and silent pain that pillows get salted.

It is in hope that salt is all they get.


Arms wrapped around her middle.

Her pillows continue to get their salt treatment.

Writing never helped.


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