Episode 9: Four years later, October is still the cruelest month
To Readers
Note: The story centers on the Itaewon disaster, which occurred on Oct. 29, 2022.
The meaning behind feeling safe
Why social healing is needed
Sewol ferry disaster
April 19 Revolution
The Second Battle of Yeonpyeong
The long road to recovery
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.
01 July 2026

Episode 9: Four years later, October is still the cruelest month To Readers Note: The story centers on the Itaewon disaster, which occurred on Oct. 29, 2022. The meaning behind feeling safe Why social healing is needed Sewol ferry disaster April 19 Revolution The Second Battle of Yeonpyeong The long road to recovery 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.

Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

About
As fall approaches, the specter of a tragedy and its possible reoccurrence lingers while the need for remorse, accountability, and social healing remains crucial.

*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.

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.

I have PTSD.

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 makes horror films truly scary comes from our intrinsic fear of the unknown. The suspense comes from not knowing when, where or what will appear next.

People fear the unseen more than the monster standing in plain sight.

A faint sound echoing through the darkness, a scene that is never fully explained or an inexplicable silence all ignite the imagination. And imagination often creates something even more terrifying. At its core, fear is born of the unknown.

The same principle helps explain why, after a social disaster that leaves a society grappling with collective PTSD, people relentlessly demand the truth.

A disaster whose cause remains unknown is not a monster that has already vanished — it becomes a specter, a possibility that could return at any time.

If the cause of a tragedy and the chain of responsibility behind it are never fully uncovered, people cannot trust again that the system is understandable or predictable. They instead begin to question whether rules actually work, whether safety systems are reliable and whether anyone will act responsibly when danger arises.

At that moment, society itself turns into a horror film.

That is why uncovering the truth is about far more than revisiting the past.

It is an attempt to end a state of uncertainty and bring fear back into the realm of what can be understood and controlled.

Only when the cause of a tragedy is revealed, responsibility is established and safeguards are put in place to prevent it from happening again can people begin to let go of their fear.

The same holds true for healing the post-traumatic stress left behind by a disaster.



"Recovering a sense of safety" — that was how my psychiatrist described the goal of treating PTSD.

Recovery begins with being able to believe once again that the world beneath your feet is a safe place.

But that's not something I can do on my own.

I never imagined that so many people would die on a street in the heart of Seoul on Oct. 29, 2022. Even now, it still doesn't feel real.

But it happened, and I watche...