As the alarm blares at 4 am, Aljon, an undergraduate student from the University of Santo Tomas, forces himself awake, knowing he needs to leave by 5 am to make it to class on time. An hour and a half later, he arrives on campus already exhausted. When classes end at 7 pm, hours of commute await him. On bad days, he does not get home until 10:30 pm. After tending to his academics, he sleeps at around 2 am, only to repeat this grueling cycle.
Aljon’s commute consumes at least four hours of his day. “Unlike your classmates who have the energy to get actively involved and
participate, you’re starting to zone out the minute classes get into deeper discussion,” he shares.
His story is not unique; it is a crisis endured by the average Filipino trapped in the daily commute, losing approximately 2.6 hours of their day to traffic—precious time stolen from rest, work, and any semblance of personal life.
The headaches before hello
According to Dr. Jezreel Del Espiritu Santo, a guidance counselor at the De La Salle Medical and Health Sciences Institute (DLSMHSI), the most common commuter complaints involve heavy traffic, long and unpredictable travel times, as well as mental and physical exhaustion before classes even begin. “Its daily and unavoidable nature intensifies other pressures such as academic workload and performance expectations,” she mentions.
Chronic fatigue, academic stress, and anxiety are usually observed among commuters. “Some students also show early signs of burnout, feeling emotionally drained, demotivated, or overwhelmed,” the counselor elaborates further.
Aljon experiences headaches and irritability that affect his interactions with others. He admits feeling so exhausted after
school that he ends up falling asleep and waking up past his stop on his commute home. “Upon arriving home, you’re about to think that the next day, you’ll go through another cycle of never-ending traffic,” he adds. This anticipatory dread interferes with rest and recovery, creating a recurring rhythm where students can never truly decompress.
Patterns like declining grades, frequent tardiness, difficulty concentrating, and drastic emotional changes serve as warning signs that mental health professionals must watch out for. “Students usually seek help midway through the semester or during exam periods, when academic demands increase and fatigue accumulates,” the counselor explains.
The price of persisting
Mental health professionals classify the experience of commuting as a “chronic, cumulative stressor.” The counselor confirms that stress from commuting is often combined with academic pressure, family expectations, and, for scholars, the fear of losing financial support.
Most heartbreaking, however, is the feeling of wasted potential. For Aljon, the cognitive and emotional resources he needs for excellence are depleted even before he enters the classroom. “All I know is I’m surviving with decent grades [that are up to] my standards, but I know deep inside I could’ve done better,” he reflects.
Despite these challenges, many students, like Aljon, still engage in extracurricular activities. However, even these meaningful experiences come with a compromise: “Commute-wise, sometimes [the extra work] takes up hours I could’ve [been at] home [instead].”
The difference becomes clear when commuting is removed from the equation. “Remote learning is better for my mental well-being as I get to learn and do activities at my own pace while managing personal responsibilities,” Aljon notes. This commute free alternative allows students to reclaim hours that would otherwise be lost to transit.
Yet even this brings its own set of compromises. “However, activities just pile up on remote learning sessions,” Aljon adds, noting that this negates many of the mental health benefits. Students also lose face-to-face interaction with peers and professors, have reduced access to resources and facilities, and struggle with study-life balance.
Paving better plans
While students get to improvise their own solutions by juggling extracurriculars despite the commute or retreating to remote learning models, these personal adjustments can only do so
much. Beyond individual measures, institutions have begun exploring their own interventions.
Schools like DLSMHSI claim to provide support through counseling programs, academic mentoring, and deadline flexibility. “We focus on problem-solving and coping strategies, such as realistic scheduling, workload management, stress and emotion regulation techniques,” explains Del Espiritu Santo. “Rather than immediately recommending [a] leave of absence, we help students identify alternatives that allow them to continue their studies while protecting their mental health.”
Another immediate solution involves flexible schedules that avoid peak traffic hours and align with expanded hybrid learning models. The University’s enlistment system allows students to choose their own schedules, although it often favors students with higher-end devices and faster internet connections, leaving others to scramble for limited slots within their preferred time blocks.
While coping strategies and nearer accommodations serve as interim remedies, a true solution requires appropriate infrastructure changes and a comprehensive urban plan. Policies should also consider and recognize the stress of commuting as a mental health issue.
Aljon pushes through because he is used to it, but settling for survival should not be the standard we accept. When students end up with two hours of sleep to maintain “decent grades” while knowing they “could’ve done better,” and when scholars constantly fear losing their futures to circumstances beyond their control, how many more Filipinos must lay their potential at the altar of the country’s traffic-laden highways before we demand change?
This article was published in The LaSallian‘s January 2026 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSJan2026 .
