I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki: A Memoir

by Baek Sehee, Anton Hur (Translator)

Overview

The internationally bestselling therapy memoir translated by International Booker Prize shortlisted Anton Hur.

PSYCHIATRIST: So how can I help you?

ME: I don't know, I'm – what's the word – depressed? Do I have to go into detail?

Baek Sehee is a successful young social media director at a publishing house when she begins seeing a psychiatrist about her - what to call it? - depression? She feels persistently low, anxious, endlessly self-doubting, but also highly judgmental of others. She hides her feelings well at work and with friends, performing the calmness her lifestyle demands. The effort is exhausting, overwhelming, and keeps her from forming deep relationships. This can't be normal. But if she's so hopeless, why can she always summon a desire for her favorite street food: the hot, spicy rice cake, tteokbokki? Is this just what life is like?

Recording her dialogues with her psychiatrist over a twelve-week period, and expanding on each session with her own reflective micro-essays, Baek begins to disentangle the feedback loops, knee-jerk reactions, and harmful behaviors that keep her locked in a cycle of self-abuse. Part memoir, part self-help book, I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki is a book to keep close and to reach for in times of darkness. It will appeal to anyone who has ever felt alone or unjustified in their everyday despair.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781635579383
Publisher:	Bloomsbury USA
Publication date:	11/01/2022
Edition description:	Unabridged
Pages:	208
Sales rank:	16,961
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 8.10(h) x 1.00(d)

About the Author

Born in 1990, Baek Sehee studied creative writing in college before working for five years at a publishing house. For ten years, she received psychiatric treatment for dysthymia (persistent mild depression), which became the subject of her essays, and then I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki. Her favorite food is tteokbokki, and she lives with her rescue dog, Jaram.

Anton Hur was born in Stockholm, Sweden. He is the winner of a PEN Translates grant and a PEN/Heim Translation Fund grant, among many others, and his translations include Kyung-Sook Shin's Violets, Bora Chung's Cursed Bunny, and Sang Young Park's Love in the Big City.

Table of Contents

Prologue ix

1 Slightly Depressed 1

2 Am I a Pathological Liar? 21

3 I'm Under Constant Surveillance 37

4 My Desire to Become Special Isn't Special at All 53

5 That Goddamn Self-Esteem 65

6 What Should I Do to Know Myself Better? 75

7 Regulating, Judging, Being Disappointed, Leaving 85

8 Medication Side Effects 93

9 Obsession with Appearances and Histrionic Personality Disorder 101

10 Why Do You Like Me? Will You Still Like Me If I Do This? Or This? 121

11 I Don't Look Pretty 133

12 Rock Bottom 143

13 Epilogue: It's Okay, Those Who Don't Face Darkness Can Never Appreciate the Light 151

14 Psychiatrist's Note: From One Incompleteness to Another 155

15 Postscript: Reflections on Life Following Therapy 157

Editorial Reviews

07/04/2022

In this candid if stilted debut, South Korean essayist Sehee documents the intensive therapy sessions that led her out of depression and anxiety. She starts from the first appointment she had with her psychiatrist, chronicling her struggles to find a medication that will ease her symptoms as she works, between sessions, to apply what she’s learning, challenging herself to be more socially engaged with others, whether it be through attending a movie club or negotiating difficult disagreements with friends. Though heartfelt, the forced neatness of Sehee’s diaristic installments feels unnatural when juxtaposed with the complicated interior life that she and her psychiatrist trawl for meaning. Sehee’s emotional recollections of growing up in an abusive household, struggling with self image, and turning to books as she learns to embrace solitude lose their potential poignancy when reconstructed in dialogue with her therapist: “ME: I’m also obsessive about my looks. There was a time I would never leave the house without make-up.... PSYCHIATRIST: It’s not your looks themselves that generate your obsessiveness.” As a result, profound subjects like the stigma of suicide are lost in the weeds of the monotonous stretches that surround references to them. Sehee’s mission to normalize conversation about mental illness is an admirable one, but this memoir fails to animate that goal. (Nov.)

Publishers Weekly

At once personal and universal, this book is about finding a path to awareness, understanding, and wisdom.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Honest and authentic throughout . . . A sincere attempt at self-discovery that will resonate with young people who suffer from similar forms of depression and anxiety.” —Library Journal

“Candid . . . heartfelt . . . Sehee's mission to normalize conversation about mental illness is an admirable one.” —Publishers Weekly

“A testament to the gradual nature of therapy's cumulative healing effects, I Want to Die should resonate with anyone who eagerly transcribes every nugget of advice they get.” —Buzzfeed

“Earnest . . . clever . . . [Baek Sehee] uses months of (real) transcripts from her therapy sessions to explore her own depression and anxiety, always tiptoeing toward something like self-awareness.” —Chicago Tribune

“An eye-opening view into a person's most vulnerable moments in a new way.” —Cosmopolitan

“With candor and humor, Baek offers readers and herself resonant moments of empathy.” —Booklist

“I like that this book's conversations don't follow a conventional narrative arc from conflict to redemption. Baek doesn't stand on a pedestal purporting to have found all the answers . . . Ultimately, there are no shiny promises that Baek will keep getting better; I appreciate her bravery to admit this to readers.” —Electric Lit

“For readers feeling a little icy around the edges, [Sehee's] memoir promises to defrost.” —Wired.com

“[I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki] is a therapeutic salve . . . Sehee's memoir is a connective tissue for all of us looking for a silver lining.” —PopSugar

“Compelling . . . there is a fascination being inside the counseling room with [Sehee]. We feel we are a party to a sacred realm and find ourselves drawn to her testimony; mesmerized by her ability to keep thwarting herself from getting better. And we want her to get better.” —Books & Film Globe

“If you've ever felt exhausted and anxious by performing well-being, this is a book for you.” —Ms. Magazine

“This book will comfort anyone who's ever been depressed, anxious, or just frustrated with themselves.” —Real Simple

“Baek Sehee ingeniously combines elements of memoir and self-help . . . She offers an intimate look into one patient's experience in therapy and her own analysis of and takeaways from those sessions . . . Everyone is just trying to be as okay as possible, after all-and seeing Sehee's processing of that in I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki is sure to make readers feel a little less alone in their own attempts.” —Shelf Awareness

“An intimate examination of the deep impact that mental health can have on one's life . . . I read both of Baek Sehee's books back to back, and from my perspective, they're two parts of a whole. To fully understand Baek Sehee's reckoning with her mental health, you have to read both memoirs.” —Book Riot

From the Publisher

08/01/2022

Sehee, a successful professional in the publishing industry, grew up in Korea with an abusive father and a hypercritical mother. Internalizing their behavior, she questioned and criticized herself to the point of depression and severe anxiety. The depression is disruptive but not so debilitating that she does not still want her favorite foods, such as tteokbokki, a spicy rice cake popular in Korean cuisine. After initiating therapy with a psychiatrist, the author began to record her sessions, and the bulk of this book consists of transcriptions of their discussions about her depression and pervasive self-criticism. Sehee is honest and authentic throughout, beginning each chapter with a brief essay that introduces a topic she wants to discuss with the psychiatrist and concluding with an essay reflecting on what she learned from the session. Chapters address topics such as honesty, self-surveillance, self-esteem, medication, physical attractiveness, and more. VERDICT This is a sincere attempt at self-discovery that will resonate with young people who suffer from similar forms of depression and anxiety.—Rebecca Mugridge

Library Journal

2022-06-02
A South Korean author recounts her long journey through anxiety and depression.

Tteokbokki is a popular Korean dish of bland rice cakes immersed in a spicy pepper sauce. The duality is a good metaphor for this book, a bestseller in South Korea. Baek has dysthymia, a low-level but persistent depression. The narrative is primarily a collection of the author’s discussions with her therapist, punctuated with short essays leavened by the poignancy of self-reflection and occasional flashes of humor. Though issues involving mental health continue to be stigmatized, Baek is clear in her belief that her story could help those in similar circumstances. “I wonder about those like me, who seem totally fine on the outside but are rotting on the inside,” she writes, “where the rot is this vague state of being not-fine and not-devastated at the same time.” While the author realizes that many of her problems stem from a painful family background, she also examines the pressure on Korean women to conform to an idealized image. She worries constantly about her appearance and what other people think about her, a mindset that plagues many Korean women. Some of the author’s discussions relate directly to Korean culture, but much of it transcends borders and will resonate with readers around the world. As she gradually worked through the therapy process, Baek learned how to avoid the emotional roller coaster that comes with dysthymia and how to avoid constantly judging herself and others. Though the act of living always comes with ups and downs, it’s important to keep them in context and seek an appropriate balance. Baek acknowledges that she might never be entirely free of her dysthymia, but she can manage it, live with it, and understand it as part of her being.

At once personal and universal, this book is about finding a path to awareness, understanding, and wisdom.

Kirkus Reviews