Editor’s note: We always promised The Counteroffensive would be a version of a reporter’s notebook. So here is my reporting… on how reporting on a war changed me. 

Because it’s so personal, I’ve made it for paid subscribers only. 

We have been stagnant on the number of paid subscribers over the last two months, and we really need your support to keep going. If you aren’t already a paying member, I hope you’ll join us and read along!

There was a time, in August 2022, when I left Ukraine and swore I would never go back.

I was drinking heavily, five or seven beers a day, to ease the stress and anxiety. It was so easy, since we were always staying at hotels with bars.

And there was always something to be stressed about.

I like to say that the hardest thing to resist in life is the line between three and four drinks. Three, and it’s a refreshing morning tomorrow. Four drinks… is actually seven.

My team and I had just finished the final reporting for what would ultimately become an eight month project. It was an investigative piece where we tried to solve a war crime from scratch — and it was the hardest story I’ve ever worked on.

I mean this both in terms of difficulty — collecting evidence of an atrocity in a war zone through a language you don’t speak — and in terms of processing the traumatic content.

In order to investigate the alleged crime, we had to sift through videos and photos of the dead body of a man who I had vicariously gotten to know through loved ones.

Being a former combat medic, blood doesn’t really upset me that much. Neither does gore. But the thing that gets me the most is women crying.

And that story featured a lot of that.

This was in addition to all the accumulated stress since I landed in Kyiv on the night of the full-scale invasion. I had gone through multiple rotations, every time interviewing people who were often having the worst day of their lives.

When I got out of Ukraine, I went on vacation to surf, which is a sport I desperately love. But I couldn’t feel any joy from it in Portugal, one of the world’s premiere surf spots.

I felt terribly depressed. If I wasn’t sad, I would exhibit a short temper. I couldn’t get out of bed, but when I wanted to, I felt absolutely exhausted. My closest friends began expressing concern about my mental state.

Rumblings from trucks and street cars would put me on edge.

Loud noises would have my mind running on overdrive.

“Hyper-vigilance is a symptom of PTSD, you know,” said a psychiatrist that I saw. I later recognized the other symptoms too, and it’s easy to see in hindsight: emotional numbing, irritability, depression, anxiety, nightmares.

I was never formally diagnosed with PTSD, even when I asked to be — “only necessary for health insurance purposes,” another doctor said.

So I tried to turn my reporting skills towards understanding what was happening to me.

Some of the predisposition for PTSD is genetic, Dr. Kathleen Chard, Professor of Psychiatry and Behavioral Neuroscience at the University of Cincinnati, told me.

“Temperament [also] plays a role: people who are more sensitive to the world around them,’’ are more susceptible to PTSD, said Chard. Trauma is change, “so people who are less sensitive [to change] and can handle change better” also handle traumatic events better .

I dove head-first into trying to recover; I started to understand why I had anxiety around people, or left events early.

“If you're worried all the time, it begins to change the way you think and feel about the world. Everything's a danger,” Chard explained. So you think to yourself: ‘I can't get close to people.’

I’m also fully aware that I have it easier than some others who have covered brutal conflicts. The war correspondent Chris Hedges told me that he had a nervous twitch in his face after years of covering the war in El Salvador, for example. Others never come home. And I’m aware of the privilege that outsider journalists have, in that they can leave a war zone.

Over time, I just… started feeling better. I began taking medication, which helped lessen my anxiety and depression. Talk therapy sessions helped bring me gradually out of my state.

I also drank significantly less alcohol. I’ve tried to adopt my friend Nic Robertson’s rule – as a correspondent for CNN he told me he never drinks in any conflict area. I haven’t been able to fully realize this aspiration, but I don’t drink very much at all nowadays. 

Another friend, the great war correspondent Kim Dozier, suggested I listen to this Andrew Huberman podcast about what alcohol does to your health. What struck me is the evidence that it creates anxiety that pops up even on days you don't drink. You slowly dig a hole that only alcohol can fill, and for a long time I was digging vigorously.

"Drink socially, not medically. If you want to drink socially because the Celtics game is on, go ahead,” Chard said. “Don't do it because you're anxious and you can't go to the family reunion without having a couple beers." 

As I started to feel better, I also began to think about how urgently I wanted to return to Kyiv.

It’s sometimes hard to explain to friends how I went from pledging never to go back to Ukraine… to moving and living here.

Hedges had one possible explanation: “There is this kind of, you know, how close can I get [as a] moth to the flame kind of thing,” he told me. “The fact is, in war zones, you just live very intensely. I mean, everything is heightened. The colors are even heightened.”

There’s some part of this which is true. But there’s a limit. I’m not an adrenaline junkie. You will not find me jumping out of planes or via bungee. I have no interest in visiting a dangerous place for its own sake.

Here’s what I came up with: as I recovered, I began to realize that reporting on the war in Ukraine may be the most meaningful thing I ever do in my life, and that I can make a small difference here. 

And so here I am.

After I launched The Counteroffensive, I asked Dr. Chard whether there was a way to build resilience before a traumatic event, and whether there are scientifically backed ways to stave off PTSD before it gets a hold.

She made a couple suggestions: understand that you cannot always control life events, for one. You need a gut check, she said: ‘Am I okay when I don't get when I get my way? Am I okay with changing the plan?’ 

This is a tough one for Type A control freaks like me. I worried tremendously about where we should get an apartment in Kyiv, for example. If someone ever got injured because the apartment building was attacked, I’d find it very hard not to find myself responsible (Ross, on the other hand, chuckled at my concern over this). 

Chard used this analogy to counter my line of thinking: If you kill your friend while driving by swerving from a deer and hitting a tree, you need to realize that you aren't the deer, and you didn't plant the tree. 

After a traumatic event, or series of events, caffeine and alcohol don't work particularly well, she added. Sleep to recover does. 

But most important is perceived support. 

The thing that helps most is positive support from your social circles, creating an environment that isn't blame-, shame-, or guilt-inducing, Chard said. And building one that is accepting.

Thank you to my friends and colleagues for helping lift me out of the darkness by beaming me that positivity on late night calls, or Zoom catch-ups, or over cups of coffee. 

And to you, our subscribers, for being part of our supportive social circle. 

I read virtually all your comments, and try to respond to any questions. Your encouragement means everything to our team.

Thank you for reading The Counteroffensive.

Good morning to readers; Kyiv remains in Ukrainian hands. 

But parts of southern Ukraine are slowly slipping from Russian control after four months of Ukraine on the offensive.

This week has seen progress for Ukrainian forces along the southern Zaporizhzhia front, as they break through Russian defenses near the town of Verbove. Verbove lies east of Robotyne, which was liberated by Ukraine last week. 

“The main thing is not to lose this initiative,” said General Oleksandr Tarnavskiy in an interview with CNN. 

The Ukrainian military officer said that coming cold weather in the fall will not affect the way they fight, which right now is primarily without vehicles. The town of Tokmak, believed by Ukraine to be an important strategic position, is within 20 kilometers of the frontlines. 

While dealing with Russian invaders in the south and east, Ukraine has also been in the midst of a diplomatic row to their west all week. 

Poland, Hungary, and Slovakia refused to accept any more grain from Ukraine one week ago, citing fear that a large influx of Ukrainian grain would undercut local farmers. Ukraine has been unable to transport very much grain through traditional Black Sea shipping routes, so its neighbors have received much more than average through land routes. 

In protest of these bans, Ukraine filed complaints with the World Trade Organization.

In a rally Friday, Polish PM Mateusz Morawiecki told Zelenskyy to never "insult Poles again." It's worth noting that there are Polish elections in a few weeks, and rural agricultural voters are a key part of the ruling party's coalition.

Following this dust-up, Poland said earlier this week that it would stop sending additional packages of military aid to Ukraine. The United States has now stepped in, asking for  clarification from Poland on the extent of the reduction in support. 

Poland also signaled that it will cut support to the approximately one million Ukrainians refugees now residing in the country, Bloomberg reported. This includes things like work permits, as well as access to health care and schooling.

Poland has been one of the most prolific supporters of Ukraine, and a crack in their relationship with Ukraine could spell disaster for continued international unity. 

“​​You help either Ukraine or Russia. There will be no mediators in this war. By weakening assistance to Ukraine, you will strengthen Russia,” Zelenskyy said in a speech in Toronto at the end of his North American tour yesterday.

And now we’ve reached the end of today’s issue. Usually we have a reporter’s notebook section here, but the whole article was a reporter’s notebook! So we’ll leave the way we always do.

Today’s dog of war is via our friend Alessandra Hay, who took this photo of a friend’s adorable pup in Lviv. His name is Jimmy!

Stay safe out there. 

Best,
Tim