Election exhaustion

I WAS reading the papers and from the internet – Donald Trump, once again, won the US elections. Frankly, I’m disappointed. I would also be equally disappointed should Kamala Harris win. Walay mapili. Both of them are against life. Trump wants to throw out migrants and Harris wants to kill children through legalized abortion.

But that’s how elections go, there are losers and there are winners.

Our local elections are coming, and once again, people who are not supposed to run, are running. Somehow, I feel a certain weariness, a fatigue that can come only from wanting positive change to happen.

But then I remind myself that regardless of the outcome, life goes on.

Funny though, that’s the thing about elections—they can feel like everything. The stakes seem so high, and when the results go against us, it feels like a personal defeat.

It’s easy to forget that elections are not the end-all, be-all of politics. The real work happens in between those six-year or three-year intervals. Yet so many of us fall into the trap of being “seasonal citizens”—engaging only when elections are looming, and retreating into silence when the polls are closed.

We all know the feeling — anxiety, stress, hopelessness. These are the emotions that consume us during and after an election cycle. But this is also a sign that we care—deeply, passionately—about the direction our country/province/city is headed. Hope can coexist with dread, and when things don’t go our way, that fear turns to despair.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

The question is, how do we break free from the cycle of political disillusionment?

First, we must acknowledge that elections matter—but they aren’t the be-all and end-all of political participation. There’s an entire political ecosystem that operates outside the voting booth.

We can’t afford to be passive observers. Every year, in between election cycles, we have the power to shape our political reality—by showing up, by speaking out, and by building power in our communities.

The truth is, we don’t have to wait for an election to make a difference. Local politics is where we can have the most impact—starting with barangay meetings, homeowners’ associations, neighborhood councils, and church movements.

Politics is not just for “leaders”; it’s for everyone. Our day-to-day actions, no matter how small they seem, ripple out and influence the larger picture. If we allow ourselves to be passive followers, we cede that power to those who are already entrenched in the system. Don’t wait for someone else to speak up for you—be the dissident voice when necessary.

We can also find strength by connecting with our communities. Building relationships with our neighbors, pooling resources, and creating a sense of shared responsibility is an antidote to political despair.

When we care for each other, and when we know each other, it becomes harder for any one individual or group to be left behind or erased. This is the essence of Bayanihan, the Filipino value of community solidarity. When we build that sense of unity, we build resilience.

I won’t sugarcoat the reality — election fatigue is real. It’s exhausting, both mentally and emotionally. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is permit ourselves to rest, to take a break from the constant cycle of anxiety. But rest should not become a retreat. We must refuse to be passive in the face of injustice or indifference.

Instead, focus on what is within your control. Protect your family, protect your community, and protect your peace. Whether that means volunteering in local efforts, supporting causes you believe in, or simply caring for your mental health, it’s all part of the process of reclaiming agency in an often-frustrating political landscape.

The 2025 elections will eventually come around, and when they do, you’ll be glad you invested your energy in something more than just waiting for the next vote.

Politics is not just about winning or losing an election; it’s about shaping the future in ways that matter—through action, voice, and community. Let’s not lose sight of what truly matters — building a political culture where participation, engagement, and solidarity are not just seasonal but constant.

Election cycles may come and go, but our collective futures are shaped by what we do every day in between. Don’t let despair be the final word in your political journey. There’s always more work to be done.