The book’s chapters contain ragged stories. Some contributors have applied polish and thrown in amusing anecdotes. Others read like raw confessions, cathartic admissions of dark baggage that has troubled them for decades. Some chapters end with a plea for colleagues and news organisations to take mental health more seriously. A few note how rare it is for a colleague to ask “how are you?” in the fray of a big news story. Sayee notes how RTÉ’s Tommie Gorman became “like a Daddy” to those covering the McAreavey trial in Mauritius once she’d got over her competitive streak. the nightmares. Shouting in my sleep, trapped, surrounded. The dilemmas. The decisions. The doubts. Trying to stay strong and losing my nerve for a while; needing to escape. And how I still fall into places and moods of darkness.” It is such a shame that he didn’t stay on and find himself a desk in a different part of the newsroom.

He added: “The 1998 political agreement was not meant to be for us. It was meant to be for the generations that came after us, freeing them to shape the future”.

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Earlier this year, one of the five P. O’Neills (IRA spokespersons) he’d dealt with during his career asked him if he’d had any counselling. “We were talking about how moments in that past still play inside all of our heads. The answer is no – not the formal kind that comes with an appointment.” He adds: “None of us has come through that conflict without damage.” The hurried exit of Freddie Scappaticci (aka Stakeknife) he claimed, was facilitated by republicans. We still await the outcome of an investigation of what he got up go. But in the meantime Rowan recalls being told that the clinking sound of a spoon on a glass sometimes signalled the start of taped confessions by those accused of being informers before they were taken away and shot. Thirty years on, with all of the advances in technology, there is nowhere to hide from this conflict. This is a tough read at times. The tone and content is different from the great many Troubles-related books that have gone before. It is deeply personal. This is an author free of self-pity trying to divest himself, not so much of the ghosts of the past, but those demons which, at times, made his life so miserable, especially when he was at the top of his game. At that moment in Ballycastle, I realised that I am not yet ready for the conversations that will flow from this book; not all of them, not yet ready to go as deep as some questions ask and demand.

I think about all of that in the context of the conflict in the North and, then, on its roads to an imperfect peace. In Living With Ghosts, Brian Rowan delves into his dealings with those involved in the conflict, and those tasked with bringing it to an end, revealing the heavy toll it took on those affected by the violence across the community. The trenches in this conflict are the mass graves of the thousands dead in just the past few weeks. As a reporter, he listened to the heartbeat of the Troubles. A difficult and carefully told tale, carried out with humanity’ – Kate Adie

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Part of his purpose in writing is to let others, who have had similar experiences, know that they are not alone In his journalistic career Rowan walked the thinnest of lines, where morals and principles were blurred, and as a result his mind became tortured. This book is an explanation, not a confession. If Breaking was being published in a few months’ time, some of the contributors would most likely have referred to the recent tragedy in Creeslough. Being embedded for a prolonged period in a small community will have built friendships among the local community and reporters on the scene in the immediate aftermath and throughout the week of funerals. But it will also have bruised the resilience of reporters, producers, camera operators and photographers who have had little time to process the grief they witnessed before moving onto the next breaking story. (The Dart Centre for Journalism & Trauma published a set of resources for self-care and peer support aimed at those covering the explosion in Donegal.) Asked it at a moment when ceasefire has become a bad word, and when too many leaders of influence are looking the other way as we count the dead in Israel Gaza war.

Part of his purpose in writing is to let others, who have had similar experiences, know that they are not alone. Hume and Adams were right. There was another way; and, in those developments, our learning was that before you can have peace, the trenches are dug even deeper.In Living With Ghosts renowned veteran journalist Brian Rowan retraces his steps through Northern Ireland’s conflict years, as he bravely delves into the darkness of those times. His story takes us beyond the often strict boundaries of the news into the very real dilemmas and fears behind its scenes.In his journalistic career Rowan walked the thinnest of lines, where morals and principles were blurred, and as a result his mind became tortured.