Unfelt Love

You can call me Maria. I’m 19 years old. I am the youngest child of my parents and I am their favorite child especially my mother. I have three brothers and six sisters older than me. Even I am the favorite child of my mother, my siblings didn’t hate me. Before I forget to tell you, I want to let you know that I am totally blind since birth. I was born prematurely by my mother. I was only six months old in her womb when she underwent CS.

My mother loves me so very very much. No one can replace her love for me. My father and mal my siblings also love me. They all love me unconditionally. And as a result, I grew up with love. And I always have the desire to make people feel loved… if possible, as much as how I’ve been loved.

I had a good, happy, and nice childhood. I never felt that I’m different compared to other child. I’m unique, but not different… Anyway, I shall continue the story.

My family is also supportive towards me. They give all the materials I need. They care for me. Again, they love me. People in my place also accepted me for who and what I am. My physical disability didn’t become a hindrance for them to unconditionally love and accept me. But life is not perfect and will never be perfect, I guess. That’s why, even I have a loving and supportive family towards me, I still experience struggle.

I was only 12 years old when I noticed that my mother doesn’t feel my love. I was hurt. I was questioning myself. What have I done? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I make her feel my love? Really, I’m asking those question almost every day and every night. But I didn’t get any answer.

Year 2009, on the 13th day of August, my mother enrolled me at the Yamaha School Of Music for a Voice Lesson. I never wanted to have voice lesson because although singing was my first love, my true love is writing. But I have no choice. I granted her want. I was still only 12 years old, turning to 13 years old on the 7th day of November.

As the time goes, I felt happy being with Miss Ching, my voice teacher. Unexpectedly, my mother got jealous. I don’t know the reason why.

I was terrified by the situation. Honestly, I’m still terrified by it right now. I don’t know what to do and I don’t know what should be my action and reaction regarding it.

I stopped having a voice lesson. I didn’t tell to my family my true reason why I wanted to stop. I just stopped and tell them that I don’t want that anymore.

My mother would always tell me, “You don’t love me! I have no importance in you! Other people there is better than me! They have a space in your heart!”

It hurts. It really hurts. But what could I do. I’m just her child; I’m just her daughter. You might say, “No, you’re her child. You are her daughter. Don’t underestimate yourself.” But that’s her principle: “You’re just a child and I’m the mother.”

Unexpectedly again, year 2012, on the 6th day of February, she threw me a heavy, painful, hurtful, terrible, tragic, dramatic, saddest, heartbreaking, and unbelievable words. She said, “Since you are going to church every Sunday, pray to God for the time of my death! I know you’ll be happy if I will be gone in this world! Because the other there is more important to you! Pray for my death!”

Before it happened, I have many suicidal thoughts. And on that day, I really wanted to kill myself. I really wanted to kill myself. So much… very much.

Then, yes. Yes, on that day. On that day, I committed suicide. Believe me or not, I’m telling you. It’s hard to commit suicide. It’s not easy. I’ve been thinking and reflecting on it for so long time and for so many times. And… it’s really hard. But, God, God didn’t want me to die. He saved my life with his miracle.

I lived my life again, carrying the burden, struggling, terrified, horrified, and full of sorrows. And my fear began to be well developed. I’m afraid to love because my mother will get jealous again. And the tragic event, will happen again.

April 29, 2013, I asked a help of the counselor. But still, I’m struggling until now. Counseling only helps me to cope with what I deeply feel inside.

I feel guilty. Maybe, with the things I haven’t done or maybe, with the things that I’ve done. What kind of child I am. The worst. I hate myself. And I feel helpless and hopeless with this. I still have suicidal thoughts. But I’m giving my best not to give in, not to commit suicide again.

I don’t know how will my story is going to end. Worst, I guess.

“If the love is not felt, can I still call it love?”

:'(