Episode 5: Small gestures that help and words to avoid for those living alongside PTSD To Readers Note: The story centers on the Itaewon disaster, which occurred on Oct. 29, 2022. The loving naggers Emotional allies Words that deepen the wound 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.

After the illness entered my life, it was my psychiatrist who held me together inside the consultation room. Outside the clinic, it was the handful of people who knew about my illness — my partner and close friends — who kept me going. *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 weekend 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 insidiously swelled into a dangerously packed mass. The situation eventually led to a crowd crush in a narrow alley, amid a lack of effective control measures to control the on-foot traffic, 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 getting 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. What did the doctor say today? Whenever I returned from a visit to my psychiatrist, my partner would always ask the same question. No matter how rambling my answer was, my partner listened until the very end. As I spoke, my partner would often respond with words of empathy. "I'm glad you told the doctor that," my significant other would say, or "What did the doctor say about it?" On days when I was too exhausted to keep talking, my partner would simply say, "You can tell me another time." For a long time, I believed I could live perfectly well on my own. As long as I could support myself financially, I thought I could get by without family, friends or a partner. That was before PTSD pulled me down. After the illness entered my life, it was my psychiatrist who held me together inside the consultation room. Outside the clinic, it was the handful of people who knew about my illness — my partner and close friends — who kept me going. I wasn't going through it alone. I was able to continue moving forward with the illness because of their care and love. For people living with mental illness, the attitudes of those around them can be just as important as professional treatment. Some people help you stay standing. Others make you stumble. "Did you take your medication?" I didn't need a phone alarm to tell me to take my medication because my partner would ask every night before going to bed. As we lived far apart and my family did not know about my condition, my partner was the one who consistently took on the responsibility to check in on me. From the Itaewon crowd crush that triggered my PTSD to my first psychiatric appointment and every moment since, my partner witnessed my entire journey more closely than anyone else. My partner was also the first person — and most persistent — to insist that I seek professional help. Watching me sinking into guilt, anxiety and depression, they convinced me that I needed expert care more than anyone else c...