“Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.”
– Les Misérables
Baek Sehee’s I Want to Die, But I Want to Eat Tteokbokki takes readers on a journey of self-reflection, therapy, and acceptance, shedding light on the struggle with mental health issues many face yet often keep hidden. Sehee’s work stands out because it is so candid — through sharing her therapy sessions, she reveals the challenges and healing that come with confronting oneself honestly.
The book unfolds through Sehee’s therapy sessions, where she discusses her experiences with depression, anxiety, and a persistent sense of emptiness. Sehee expresses what many feel but hesitate to voice, such as the feeling of being “not enough” or the exhaustion of trying to meet societal expectations. Her therapist listens and challenges her to question the negative beliefs she holds about herself.
The beauty of Sehee’s work lies in its accessibility. Rather than offering clichéd advice, she provides an honest account of struggling with mental health while balancing ordinary desires and daily routines — like the simple joy of eating tteokbokki, a popular Korean comfort food. Through these confessions, Sehee normalizes therapy, self-doubt, and the ongoing process of mental health recovery. This book resonates deeply with readers who may feel that they are “not quite right” or that they aren’t living up to an invisible standard. Sehee’s openness reassures us that we are not alone in these battles.
Reading this book felt like looking into a mirror. When I first sought therapy, I was hesitant and, truthfully, skeptical. I questioned the value of talking through my feelings when I couldn’t even understand them myself. But through therapy, much like Sehee, I learned to embrace my feelings without judgment and to acknowledge that my sadness and anxieties were valid. This realization changed how I approached my own mental health. Accepting that it was okay to feel “not okay” was incredibly freeing.
Sehee’s book reminded me that mental health journeys are rarely linear, that progress sometimes looks like small steps forward, and that healing is not a destination but an ongoing process.
In a world that often pressures us to present ourselves as always happy and successful, Sehee’s book reminds us that there’s strength in vulnerability. Her story sheds light on the importance of prioritizing our mental health, accepting our imperfections, and learning to take life one step at a time. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed, lost, or like you’re the only one struggling, I Want to Die, But I Want to Eat Tteokbokki offers a comforting reminder that you’re not alone, and that there’s always room for hope and healing.