Today, I cried for no reason. But I think it's because JV reminded me, through a seeming random remark, that being a survivor of the July 1990 Baguio earthquake could be a keystone trauma, the source of my panic attacks. I am not sure what to say. All I know is that I seemed courageous at the time. I even walked the length of Session Road and up to its north end and then walked to see the Hyatt Terraces Hotel far afield lying on its side. I saw with my own eyes how the first floors of most buildings built after the American period crushed under the weight of the entire structures.
I remember some psychology? students from Manila taking a video of me relating how I felt about it. I remember saying I realized that things in life are not permanent, that tall buildings could suddenly topple one day, and so on.
I guess this espoused subconsciously the belief in me that the world in general is not safe and that my life could be taken away from me anytime with a major disaster of every kind. This may be the reason why I became religious, which is bad because it is out of fear and not out of true love of God.
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