Former Fuji TV Announcer Nagisa Watanabe Opens Up: Embracing Pain and Moving Forward

Exclusive 90-Minute Interview:
Her First Photo Essay Creates a Buzz!
From Career, Illness, and Family to Online Criticism and Flashbacks

On the Internet, I’ve been called a calculating woman, a mass of desire for approval, and many other things. I’m not like that at all.

Nagisa Watanabe, 27, said this with a casual smile and without any pretense of being strong.

50,000 words written in just three weeks

At the end of January, she published her first photo essay, Tōmei wo Mitasu, which includes over 50,000 words of newly written content. The book candidly details her battle with and recovery from PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), which she developed during her time as a Fuji TV announcer. The book has received a tremendous response, and even nearly a month after its release, bookstores continue to experience shortages and sellouts. On Amazon, the book has already garnered over 1,400 reviews.

It has been about six months since she left Fuji TV. We spoke with Watanabe about her current state of mind as she embarks on a new chapter in her life.

“From the time I received the book offer last fall until its release, I’ve been going full speed ahead. Now that the events for readers have wrapped up, I feel somewhat like an empty shell. Today, I made sure to get a solid 10 hours of sleep before coming to this interview.

Lately, on my days off or when I have free time, I’ve been watching anime non-stop. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been completely immersed in The Apothecary Diaries and Dr. STONE. I’ve watched all the available episodes—who knows how many times at this point! My family even tells me, ‘You’re so obsessed, it’s scary.’ Once I get into something, I tend to dive in headfirst.”

Her extraordinary focus also played a major role in writing her book.

“I wrote the essay in about three weeks. Of course, I revised it multiple times afterward, but I finished the first draft well ahead of the deadline. Since I had been keeping a journal, I was able to write each of the 27 topics in about 90 minutes per piece.

I typed everything on my smartphone, not on a PC. I’d be lying in bed at night, writing away, and before I knew it, morning had arrived. I’ve always been the type to finish assignments as soon as possible, or else I can’t relax. Even when I was little, I used to complete my summer vacation homework before the break even started. I guess I’m just impatient.”

A valuable case study of PTSD

The text written in a short and intense period has received many heartfelt responses.

“I’ve received numerous reviews online, comments on Instagram, and DMs filled with reactions. Among them, many people have told me, ‘I cried after reading your essay.’ While that makes me happy, it also feels a little strange.

I never wrote this essay with the intention of making someone cry. I simply recalled the things that happened to me, my thoughts, and the scenes I saw, and I wrote with the hope that they would be conveyed accurately.

Knowing that people shed tears while reading my words means that the pain and suffering I felt at the time were understood by others. It reassures me that my feelings back then weren’t wrong—it’s a warm and comforting realization.”

PTSD, which Watanabe suffered from, is a mental disorder triggered by a traumatic event—often a life-threatening experience. Since the psychological wounds at the root of the illness are highly sensitive, real-life case studies are rarely disclosed to the public.

“A counselor even shared their thoughts on my book. They mentioned that because it contains specific information from someone who actually experienced PTSD, it holds value from a psychiatric perspective as well.

When I was diagnosed with PTSD, I felt incredibly anxious because no matter how much I searched, I couldn’t find relatable information or a clear roadmap to recovery. I even wondered if this was a condition that could never improve. But that’s not true at all. I wanted to get this book out into the world as soon as possible to deliver that message, so hearing such feedback makes me really happy.

A social worker, who has supported me throughout and is about the same age as my mother, even said, ‘This book should be placed in hospitals.'”

While warm words continue to pour in, heartless comments have also been circulating online.

The online space and the real world

“My Instagram comment section is chaos. When I publicly shared my illness, people accused me of faking a suicide attempt, and when I posted about my recovery, they said, ‘There’s no way PTSD heals that quickly. You’re faking it.’ Even just updating my social media brings comments like, ‘Stop looking at the internet and live quietly.’

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt at all, but I’ve decided to live the way I want, no matter what people say. More than anything, I’ve been feeling lately that I have more supporters. Especially in my Instagram DMs, it’s such a warm space. Messages like, ‘You’re not wrong,’ ‘There are many voices out there, but don’t ever lose,’ and ‘There are more people in society cheering you on than you think.’ People are truly kind.

In contrast to the online hate, my real-world work environment has expanded significantly.

“I’m grateful to be involved in a variety of fields—volleyball-related work, fashion-related work, and interviews like this. There were a few cases where planned jobs were suddenly canceled, like ‘Actually, let’s not move forward with this.’ But those were minimal. I’ve had so many staff members and companies say, ‘We support you!’ and that’s been incredibly reassuring.”

She emphasizes that her recovery within a year and a half is not something that applies to everyone.

“Everyone is different, and I was really lucky. I happened to meet a great doctor, and my original personality aligned well with the treatment, allowing me to regain my health.

But I think that’s the case with any illness. Recovery timelines vary from person to person, and there’s no single treatment or medication that guarantees a cure.

The difficulty with mental illness is that it can’t be measured numerically or seen physically. That’s why I hope we can create a society where anyone who feels, ‘Something’s not right,’ can easily seek medical help and be properly cared for.”

It’s okay to run away

Stepping into a bigger world and choosing to live life on her own terms—Watanabe says she was able to make that decision because she allowed herself to “run away” for the sake of her own happiness.

“There are plenty of unreasonable things in society. Take company drinking parties, for example. These days, times are changing, so people might say, ‘You don’t have to come if you don’t want to!’ But in the end, the older generation, who have the power to make decisions at work, grew up in a culture where drinking parties were the norm. So, ultimately, those who participate tend to be the ones who get recognized. I think there are countless similar inexplicable systems in society. The harder you try to do well, the more you feel the need to adapt to these strange, unwritten rules.

But I think it’s important to pause in moments like that. Instead of thinking about whether something is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ in the context of your environment, you should ask yourself, ‘Am I happy with this?’ In my case, I realized, ‘Ah, if I keep going like this, I won’t be happy.’ That’s why I made this choice. Some people may criticize that as ‘running away.’ But I don’t think distancing yourself from things or people you struggle with, or even choosing to escape at times, is necessarily a negative thing for your own life.”

Watanabe has experienced firsthand what it’s like to lose the opportunity to “run away” because she was too immersed in her work.

“There was a time when I was so busy as an announcer that I barely had any time off, and I started experiencing dizziness and hearing loss. I was diagnosed with Meniere’s disease. But at that time, more than feeling exhausted or struggling, I genuinely believed, ‘I can still do this.’ No matter how much the room spun, I could still work. I was so determined not to lose the opportunities given to me, to keep stepping up. I thought, ‘I can still push through.’

It was the same when my PTSD symptoms first appeared. I kept telling myself, ‘I won’t let this defeat me’ and ‘I’ll be fine.’ But in reality, I wasn’t fine at all.

I wish I could tell my past self that it’s okay to stop. That there’s no need to feel such a strong sense of guilt about it. Life is unpredictable, so I think it’s okay to prioritize what you truly want to do in the moment.”

Tearful phone call from my father

When I asked him about a recent memorable event, he looked a little complicated and confided in me about an exchange he had with his father, who is usually reticent.

About two weeks ago,” he said, my father called me in tears. My father called me in tears. My grandmother had told him what she thought of the book. I had not told my grandmother that I had PTSD for a long time. I had just told her that I was sick, or something like that, so she was surprised when she read the book. My grandmother and my father felt anew that there was something they could have done for me. She called me with tears in her voice.

My father’s phone call revealed his emotions. I wonder how he honestly felt.

I was happy that he expressed his feelings in that way. I am sorry. I am truly sorry that I made my family feel that way. However, when I was in the worst pain, my father treated me exactly the same as before. I had lost 9kg of weight, my skin was a mess, and I had changed so much, but he was still the same. That’s why my father probably thought, ‘I couldn’t do anything,’ but he didn’t. That’s what saved me the most. That’s what saved me the most.”

It is said that there is no cure for PTSD. While Mr. Watanabe is energetically active, he still visits a psychiatrist on a regular basis. We asked him frankly about his current physical condition.

The trauma will never go away

“As you can see, I’m doing well. But actually, there was one time this year when I experienced a flashback for the first time in a while.

I think it was in late January. While I was sleeping at home, the traumatic experience resurfaced. My body became paralyzed as if I was in sleep paralysis, and I was drenched in sweat—so much that even my clothes and bedding were soaked. There wasn’t any direct trigger, but I believe it was caused by chronic stress.

It was terrifying and extremely unpleasant, but I’ve realized that living in fear of flashbacks and trauma would be even worse. I don’t want to live a life where I avoid things just because of this.

Trauma never truly disappears. When my symptoms were at their worst, I even wished I could erase all my memories. But now, I feel differently. Feeling pain is a natural response, and if I stopped feeling it altogether, it would feel as if everything I went through to overcome my illness would vanish too. Now, I choose to acknowledge that pain and live with it.”

Living a life without regrets

Finally, we asked her about her future prospects.

“When I stepped away from my title as an announcer and started a new life as a freelancer, I didn’t set any big goals for myself. It feels like I’ve just set sail into a vast ocean, embarking on a new journey. Right now, I think I’ve managed to catch a wave that brings me joy, but sometimes I get swept in the opposite direction by unexpected currents or winds. I know there will be storms and heavy rain ahead, but no one can truly tell what the right course is. That’s why I’ve stopped worrying about what’s right or wrong.

I just want to move forward on the path I choose. Instead of letting other people’s opinions dictate my direction, I want to raise my own sails and steer my ship with determination. That, to me, is the choice I won’t regret. I no longer want to follow a path decided by someone else.”

Beyond the rough and unpredictable sea, there must be a shore yet unseen.

Watanabe Nagisa Photo Essay “Filling the Transparency” (Kodansha)