Garden Of Grief

Long live barfi. Surviving purely out of spite and sugar.

[dieorthrive]

Hi, myself jhilmil.

Well, that’s not actually my name, and my diary’s name is Barfi :D

The name came from the movie Barfi!, not because my life resembles Barfi’s, but maybe because it resembles Jhilmil’s. But unlike Jhilmil, I’m still waiting for my Barfi to show up.

I love this movie. It gave me comfort that I never really felt in real life. It gave me hope that one day something, or maybe someone, will walk into my life and change it in ways I never expected.

So, I’m writing this diary… or maybe a blog. It’s called Suicide Diary: Die or Thrive. We will see what I end up doing because, as the name says die or thrive.

I will try.

Try my best to stay sane, to stay alive,

and simply to stay.

[dieorthrive]

Die or Thrive

Episode 8 : Bright Green Heart

Today, something funny happened.

I joined an Instagram group and somehow they decided that I am a jolly person. ☺️

A jolly person.

Me.

I almost laughed.

Then one of them said my heart must be bright green.

Which is funny because green is actually my favorite color.

And for a second I wanted to tell them, “You guys have no idea what you’re talking about.” 😭

I wanted to tell them that if my heart could speak, it would probably say.

Please stop giving me a personality. I’m literally just here to pump blood.

But jokes aside…

It made me smile.

Not because they know me.

They don’t. Not really.

They only saw a few words, a few messages, a tiny piece of me. But for a moment they looked at me and saw someone bright.

Someone cheerful.

Someone jolly.

And maybe they were wrong.

Or maybe they were right.

Maybe people can be sad and jolly at the same time.

Maybe a person can carry heavy things and still make others laugh.

Maybe a heart can be tired and bright green.

Who knows?

All I know is that today made me smile. And these days I try not to argue with happiness when it shows up.

Even if it arrives wearing the wrong name.

So today, according to a group of strangers on Instagram, I have a bright green heart. And honestly?

I’ll take it. ☺️

Well, we’ll see that too.

For now, let’s see if I die or thrive.

— jhilmil.

[dieorthrive]

Somewhere in Between.

Life lives in the space between pain and meaning. Too much joy can become hollow, and too much sorrow can become unbearable. So here we are, somewhere in the middle, gripping a frayed rope with tired hands, still trying to live. And perhaps that’s what makes us alive.

[ct-lambykins]

’you deserve to eat’

no. No I don’t. You don’t know the horrible things I’ve done.

[dieorthrive]

I want to be 13 again…

I want to be 13 again.

I have new ideas to ruin myself. Maybe this time I scream and tell everyone that I’m a kid too, that I never wanted to be the bigger person.

Maybe this time I love that boy properly, and maybe I don’t make him regret loving me.

Maybe I listen to him talk. Maybe I say yes and ruin myself anyway.

Maybe this time I eat healthy, or maybe I don’t eat at all and become skinny with eating problems.

But this time I don’t binge eat I just stop eating, count my calories, and disappear quietly.

Maybe this time I choose myself and hurt myself in my own ways.

Maybe this time I dress like a whore and get called one.

Maybe this time I actually become one and choose myself over my religion.

Maybe this time I let them pay every time while I just stand there smiling instead of reaching for my wallet.

Maybe this time I become the main character and ruin my life my own way.

Maybe 22 is my new 13,

And I’ve found newer ways to be ruined.

[dieorthrive]

Die or Thrive

Episode 7: Maybe a Different Family

Sometimes I wish I had never been born.

And sometimes I wish I had been born into a different family.

A different mother.

A different life.

Maybe I wish I had been an only child.

And if not, maybe the older one.

Or the younger one.

Anything but the middle.

When I was little, I used to think my poor brother had to share our mother’s love because of me.

Then my sister was born, and I thought, poor baby, now she has to share it with both of us.

Funny, isn’t it?

I spent so much time worrying about everyone else’s share of love that I never stopped to wonder where mine was.

Maybe that’s why it took me so long to notice.

My family gave me gifts.

Money.

Food.

Clothes.

The things people point at when they say, Seeeee They love you.

And maybe they did.

Maybe they do.

But sometimes I wanted something that couldn’t be bought.

I wanted to feel chosen.

I wanted to feel missed.

I wanted someone to notice when I got quiet.

I wanted love in a language I could actually understand.

The strange part is that they still call me their favorite.

And every time I hear it, I feel confused.

Because if this is what being the favorite feels like, then I spend a lot of time wondering what the others got.

Maybe they loved me.

Maybe I just never felt it.

Maybe both things can be true at the same time.

Who knows?

Well, we’ll see that too.

For now, let’s see if I die or thrive.

— Barfi

[dieorthrive]

Die and Thrive

People always tell you to choose.

To die or to thrive.

As if life is a neat little crossroads.

As if suffering automatically points one way and healing the other.

But nobody tells you that sometimes you do both.

Parts of you die.

The child who waited by the phone.

The girl who thought love was something you earned.

The person who kept making room for people who never made room for her.

And somehow, after every small death, something survives.

Something stubborn.

Something embarrassing.

Something that still waters dead plants just in case.

I have died a thousand times.

And yet, here I am.

Thriving isn’t the opposite of dying.

Sometimes thriving is what happens after you’ve buried enough versions of yourself and kept walking anyway.

[dieorthrive]

They stopped putting candles on my cake a long time ago.

I don’t even get cakes anymore I’m grown now, after all.

Maybe they know my wish.

Maybe that’s why they stopped asking me to make one.

[dieorthrive]

Die or Thrive

Episode 6: I Don’t Stay in One Place.

At first, I thought it was just a habit.

Then college happened, and I noticed something strange. After a few months, every place starts feeling too familiar. The walls know me. The routes become automatic. The room starts feeling less like a room and more like a trap.

Maybe it’s because the only place I stayed for more than two decades was my house.

Twenty one years is a long time to spend mostly in the same place, in same bed.

So now I get nervous when a place starts feeling permanent.

What if it catches me?

What if it keeps me there?

What if one day I wake up and realize I’ve been staring at the same four walls for years again?

Maybe that’s dramatic

But fear is rarely logical.

I leave before places can hold me.

Before rooms become memories.

Before I learn where the light falls every afternoon.

Before loneliness gets comfortable enough to unpack its bags beside me.

The funny thing is, I don’t think I’m running away anymore.

I think I’m looking for something.

A home.

Not a house.

I’ve already had a house.

I want a home.

A place that doesn’t feel like a cage.

A place that doesn’t make me count the days.

A place where staying doesn’t feel the same as being stuck.

A place that feels like breathing.

Maybe I’ll find it.

Maybe it’ll take years.

Maybe it’s waiting for me somewhere.

Who knows?

Well, we’ll see that too.

For now, let’s see if I die or thrive.

— Barfi.

[dieorthrive]

Die or Thrive

Episode 5: The Missing Number

And I hear them speaking about their children.

They say two names

with such softness

you would think love only comes in pairs.

And I sit there quietly,

the missing number at the dinner table,

the child edited out of the story

so naturally that nobody even notices the gap.

It’s almost impressive sometimes.

The way a person can disappear

while still sitting right there.

Sometimes I think

maybe they wished I had never been born.

And sometimes,

I wish it too.

But since I am here,

since this body still takes up space a lot of space in the house,

since my shoes are still by the door

and my cups are still mixed with everyone else’s in the kitchen…

maybe say my name too

when you tell people you actually have three children.

Not even proudly.

Just honestly.

Or maybe don’t.

Don’t actually.

Maybe I was always meant to feel

like a guest in my own family,

like a shadow standing slightly outside the frame

while everyone else smiles for the picture.

Already halfway gone

before I even learned how to stay.

Well, we will see that too.

But for now, let’s see if I die or thrive.

— Barfi

[dieorthrive]

And I wish, I wish one day my family would tell me I’m adopted, so I could leave without guilt.

[dieorthrive]

Die or Thrive

Episode 3: I Don’t Wanna Talk

Today I would like to discuss a matter of great disturbance people speaking to me when I have very clearly dedicated my precious time to doing absolutely nothing.

Now I understand my presence is delightful. I understand my company is a gift.

I understand my face may possess an irresistible charm that makes people wish to approach me.

But dear heavens…

Must you?

Can one not sit in peace with her notebook? Can one not stare dramatically into the distance without society interrupting? Can one not watch her beloved BL reels without being summoned back into the cruel realities of human interaction?

I possess a temper, you see.

A truly terrible one.

Yet I have raised myself with dignity and manners, therefore I do not throw chairs, scream at civilians, or declare war.

No.

I simply sit there smiling politely while internally writing your name into the Book of Tiny Betrayals.

And every interruption receives its own page.

Disturbing me while I write? A betrayal.

Calling my name repeatedly? A betrayal.

Asking me what I am watching while I am very obviously watching it? Treason.

Absolute treason.

So I kindly request that when you observe me sitting with my notebook, staring into nothingness with a face burdened by the weight of existence itself…

Leave me be.

For I am not ignoring the world.

I am simply in mourning for my peace.

Until next time

Let us wait and see whether

I die or thrive.

— Barfi

[dieorthrive]

Die or Thrive

Episode 2: I Finally Took a Bath.

Well… I finally took a bath today.

I took a very long bath today, even though I didn’t want to. My mother was sitting beside me and suddenly said, “It’s you who’s smelling. Oh no, go take a bath, you smell.”

Excuse me?

So I told her, Well… it’s been 11 days, so maybe a little.

Then she said, Take a shower.

Now the funny thing is, I was planning to take a bath.

But the moment someone tells me I should do something, suddenly my brain goes… Actually no. Why should I? Pure rebellion for absolutely no reason.

But in the end, I took a long bath.

And mind you I have curly hair. Today my mother suddenly looked at my hair and said I must have done something to it because she doesn’t like it.

No, mother. You did this 21 years ago. Don’t you remember?

Funny how she’s slowly realizing things. Maybe tomorrow she’ll discover I don’t brush my hair either.

We will see.

But for now, let’s wait and see if

I die or thrive.

— Barfi

[dieorthrive]

Life sucks, and so does my sleeping schedule. 🎀

[dieorthrive]

Die or Thrive

Episode 1: Holiday Started

So yeah, my holidays started on 16 May, and it’s been 9 days.

Now you may ask, “Barfi, what productive and life changing things have you done?”

Well…

I slept. 🎀

Morning to night, night to morning. I slept so professionally that if sleeping were a degree, I would be graduating with honors by now.

And at night? I mostly did nothing too. Maybe a little reading, a little journaling, a little staring into space like I was solving the secrets of the universe when in reality I was thinking about absolutely nothing.

Also, bath? Hmm… we are currently not on speaking terms. Teeth brushing and hair washing happened here and there like surprise guest appearances.

I had plans for these holidays though. Big plans. Productive plans. New me plans.

But right now my holidays and I are sitting across from each other awkwardly while I continue my very important research on sleeping.

Let’s see who wins.

-barfi.