Grief, Rage, and Productivity

Where do we go from here? How does radikal na pagmamahal work in a world that doesn't permit you to express it?

TW: mentions of suicidal ideation, self-harm


Another election-related post. Pagbigyan niyo na. It’s been four days since the election, and I’m still grieving about it. However, it’s as if the world is catching up to my grief. Work is slowly picking up once again, responsibilities at home need to be attended, and other basic needs to be met.

The past two days have left me talkative, opinionated, and incendiary in the way that I’ve been expressing myself. I’ve never been this open, this combative, and talkative online since the last presidential elections in 2016. For context, the Duterte presidency, combined with the experience of a highly traumatic work experience six years ago has put me in a dark place riddled with anger, frustration, shame, and victimhood. In a time where my peers are thriving, I felt so alone because I was ashamed of myself. I was the first one to go among my fellow trainees at my first job, which can be perceived as a lack of grit among many. I was ashamed because my batchmates in that job saw me as a quitter, and have passively said some unpleasant things. However, if I stayed, I would’ve been gone, or I would’ve caused more harm to myself because the trauma that was inflicted was deep.

I also questioned my friendships during that period— I questioned the loyalty of a dear friend of mine that I considered family. We grew up together, and we did a lot of things together growing up— we went to school together, attended review classes, watched TV marathons, vetted each other’s prom dresses, and so much more. However, in school, we were in different cliques, and people in school perceived us differently. In school, I see her as a friend, yet she perceived me as a stranger. However, outside of it, we rely on each other when we need to study, or if we need help with other things— like her helping me navigate the complexities of Girl World (all-girls school edition) or me helping her navigate the world of pop culture and random internet info. I snapped at her, because I felt that she perceived me as an embarrassment during our younger years, just because she perceived me as a stranger in school, or the times when she laughed at me during moments of struggle. She didn’t take it well, because she pointed out that I could’ve called out our other friends or older peers who treated me more horribly than she did in the past. At that time, her friends have grown to be my friends too. In that process, I also felt that I needed to avenge myself against my batchmates from high school who bullied me, and seeing them fumble in their political choices before gave me some schadenfreude, because I thought I had the upper hand sometimes in terms of my moral choices. It was a very bitchy thing for me to ruminate over.

Looking back at it now, I would like to humbly admit that a lot of that the anger I had at that time was brought on by the distrust of the Duterte administration and the trauma, pain, and shame from my first job. I was also too eager to get external validation from peers when I was still starting out with writing, which left me frustrated too.

Six years later, I know I’ve changed in some way. Or at least the world has changed. As I mentioned earlier, I’m still as opinionated and as talkative as ever, but I’m now striving to use my voice to stand up for what is right, apart from striving to free my voice from the repression that I experienced from years of bullying. In terms of circumstances, I am at a different place now. I have a job that pays better than my previous ones, I consider my colleagues my friends, and so much more. The most noticeable difference here is that I found most of the social circles that I occupy in share similar levels of enthusiasm for supporting our chosen candidates and causes, and similar levels of grief when they lost. My batchmates from high school and college (a lot of them I am not close with) and I are exchanging musings of grief, fear, and dialogues on continuing the adage of radikal na pagmamahal. Recently, I made missteps in my conversations that made me sound snarky, divisive, and mean towards supporters of the other camp, which disappointed them, because it was a step back in that cause. I could’ve been more understanding and less harsh on my part. I was called in from a place of care and caution for doing such things, since we have to unite and help each other in fighting disinformation and other forms of injustice in various spaces of society. After all, the real evil here are the politicians and business tycoons who enabled this impending dictatorship to happen.

I’m still grieving from all of this. I am beyond sad and angry about the turnout of this election. It’s reminding me of the times where I was bullied and felt helpless. But this time, the bullying does not just involve me. Everyone is. We are slowly being bullied and exploited by the government that’s coming. I want to join the protests, but my family advised me against it out of my own safety. My father even advised me to channel this grief in a productive way, which involves focusing on my responsibilities as an employed, tax-paying Filipino citizen, daughter, and sister. For him, rather than channeling my rage by angrily calling out the influencers, celebrities, or people online who enabled this shitshow, or taking things to the streets by participating in protests— can come across as unproductive and a threat to my safety. I can only do so much.

For now, I will try to channel my rage and my grief in healthy ways. One moment, I will cry and do nothing. The next, I will talk to a friend. Or it can be practicing some of my routines. Our grief can turn into power.

Anyway, take care. Lalaban tayo.