Episode 1: Trapped in the past, diseased in quiet To Readers Note: The story centers on the Itaewon disaster, which occurred on Oct. 29, 2022. The beginning The night of Oct. 29, 2022 Warning This is what PTSD is like? This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

Reporter Kim Nam-young shares her experience living with PTSD after covering the Itaewon disaster on Oct. 29, 2022, which resulted in 159 deaths. *The series is based on the real-life experience of Kim Nam-young, a JoongAng Ilbo reporter currently living with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The following articles are written from Kim's first-person perspective. I have PTSD. Itaewon is a well-known nightlife district in Yongsan District, central Seoul, and a popular spot for Halloween celebrations because of its diverse international culture. The disaster occurred during the first Halloween season after social distancing restrictions imposed during the Covid-19 pandemic had been lifted. Large crowds gathered in the area to celebrate. As more and more people poured into the neighborhood, the crowd became dangerously packed. The situation eventually led to a crowd crush in a narrow alley, amid a lack of effective crowd-control measures, leaving some 350 people dead or injured, including 159 fatalities. As a reporter on the social affairs desk, I covered the Itaewon disaster on Oct. 29, 2022. Since November of the following year, I have been receiving treatment regularly. I attend psychiatric counseling sessions and take medication every day. I am only revealing the illness now, more than two years later, not because I have overcome it. This is not a story about recovery, but a record of living through the illness. To be honest, I still do not know when, or if, I will overcome it. Instead, I want to talk about the time I have spent living alongside PTSD. Even now, I continue to work as a policy and social affairs reporter while exercising, traveling and going on with daily life. If someone is hesitating to see a doctor, I hope this piece can help. I also hope we can become a society where people do not feel forced to hide emotional pain and trauma. It was October 2023, and I was on a flight bound for Toronto. It was not an especially remarkable business trip — I was traveling to cover Canada's AI industry. I still cannot clearly remember whether it was a dream or a half-asleep hallucination. Suddenly, that alley from a year earlier appeared before me — the site of the Itaewon disaster, where more than 150 people lost their lives. It was so vivid and clear, as if a television screen had been placed right in front of my eyes. The same terror I had felt back then came rushing back as well, even though the cabin around me remained perfectly calm. It was only later, after receiving treatment, that I learned this was a classic PTSD symptom known as a flashback — the reliving of a traumatic experience. The same thing happened several more times after I returned to Korea. I often felt short of breath and began gagging more frequently. Sleepless nights became a regular part of my life. The closer the first anniversary of the disaster came, the more unbearable it became. Eventually, I began seeing a psychiatrist. That was when I realized that the Itaewon of Oct. 29, 2022, had returned to me in the form of PTSD. That was how my life with this illness — an illness that traps a person in the past — began. The following story contains descriptions related to the Itaewon disaster of October 2022. Some readers may find references to disaster scenes, rescue efforts and emotional or physical reactions from the time distressing or psychologically unsettling. If you have experienced a similar trauma or are currently struggling emotionally, we encourage you to stop reading or seek support if needed. Assistance is available through nearby psychiatric clinics or mental health counseling centers. That day, I was a reporter on the social affairs desk assigned to Itaewon. The area is a well-known spot in Korea to celebrate Halloween. I had gone there to cover the night's celebrations, which had resumed for the first time in three years after being halted by the Covid-19 pandemic, and to write a feature story about the people taking part. Peopl...