When you're worried about the end of the world

It may be a fixture of this mild anxiety I've been dealing with, but I start most mornings wondering if the world as I know it has finally come to an end.

Yesterday, there was a big rally protesting the government's creeping fascism and growing list of human rights abuses. It was also the 45th anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law in the Philippines by the dictator Ferdinand Marcos, celebrated to remind us to never let the abuses happen again.

I wasn't at the rally, but I had the TV on and I kept checking Twitter for news. It was supposed to be a peaceful show of force -- it was -- but yesterday, rumors were going around that if the rally turned violent, the president would declare Martial Law nationwide.

He could do it. And he would, too. The whole of Mindanao is under Martial Law right now because of the armed conflict in Marawi.

When I woke up this morning, I instinctively checked my phone to get updates. Everything is still the same, and -- how sad, but -- I breathed a sigh of relief.