A haunting

The confusion of reporting on terrible things.

Journalism is too opaque and misunderstood. Chills gives a behind-the-scenes look at how dangerous investigative journalism gets made. 

You can support my Ukraine reporting at this GoFundMe. Thank you.

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In the car with my fixer and driver.

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KYIV — Since I began covering war and violence, particularly in troubled areas abroad, other journalists and non-journalists have quizzed me about how I deal with what I’ve seen and heard when I get home. I always say that, weirdly, each time is different.

I’ve written about this before (can’t remember where), but each time I’ve returned home from reporting trips in war zones or refugee areas I’ve had about 10 days of mayhem or stultification in my brain, or my body, or both. I’ve done everything from being angry and rude to an ex-partner, drinking too much, and working obsessively; I’m talking writing something like eight 2,000-word articles in less than two weeks.

Somehow though, this time — coming home from Ukraine — is different.