A Raw and Intimate Journey Through the Ups and Downs of Mental Health Treatment
There’s something both comforting and unsettling about peeking into someone else’s therapy sessions. On one hand, it can make us feel less alone in our struggles. On the other, it forces us to confront difficult truths about the human condition that we might prefer to ignore. Baek Se-hee’s follow-up to her bestselling memoir “I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki” offers readers another intimate look at her ongoing journey through mental health treatment, laying bare her doubts, setbacks, and small victories with unflinching honesty.
As someone who has grappled with anxiety and depression myself, I found much of Baek’s story in “I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki” painfully relatable. Her tendency towards black-and-white thinking, her struggles with self-worth, her fear of being left behind or ostracized—these are demons I know all too well. Reading about her therapy sessions felt like eavesdropping on conversations I’ve had in my own head countless times. And yet, there’s also hope and progress woven throughout, reminding us that healing is possible, even if it’s not always linear.
The Ongoing Struggle with Dysthymia
Baek continues to deal with dysthymia, a persistent mild depression, throughout “I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki”. We see her grappling with feelings of emptiness, helplessness, and boredom that ebb and flow but never fully disappear. There are days when she can barely drag herself out of bed, and others where she finds small moments of joy or contentment. It’s a stark reminder that mental health isn’t something you “fix” once and for all, but an ongoing process of management and self-discovery.
One of the most poignant moments comes when Baek reflects on how her baseline has shifted. She writes, “I don’t have nightmares, and sometimes I talk in my sleep, but I don’t really remember my dreams. I might find myself worrying, but if it’s too much, I don’t dig into it. I simply stop.” This ability to interrupt negative thought spirals represents real progress, even if Baek doesn’t always recognize it as such.
The Complexities of Treatment
“I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat” offers a nuanced look at the realities of psychiatric treatment. We see Baek wrestling with medication side effects, questioning whether she truly needs therapy anymore, and navigating the complex relationship with her psychiatrist. There’s a particularly touching moment where she worries about disappointing her doctor if she were to take her own life—a stark illustration of how our mental health journeys impact not just ourselves, but those around us.
Baek’s psychiatrist comes across as patient and insightful, gently challenging her thought patterns and offering new perspectives. Their exchanges feel genuine and unvarnished. We see moments of breakthrough alongside sessions that seem to go in circles. It’s a reminder that therapy is not a magic bullet, but a tool that requires active engagement and persistence.
Identity and Self-Worth
A major theme throughout “I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki” is Baek’s ongoing struggle with her sense of self. She frequently compares herself unfavorably to others, whether it’s her partner, friends, or even celebrities. There’s a palpable longing to be someone else, someone she perceives as stronger or more passionate or more put-together.
One particularly memorable passage has Baek obsessing over an astrologer’s reading that suggested her partner and sister were smarter than her. It’s a moment that might seem trivial on the surface, but it speaks to deeper issues of self-worth and the desperate need for external validation.
The Journey Towards Self-Acceptance
Gradually, we see Baek making progress towards accepting herself as she is. She begins to recognize her strengths alongside her weaknesses. There’s a beautiful moment where she realizes that she now has more good days than bad, marking a significant shift in her overall mental state.
Towards the end of the book, Baek reflects, “I no longer consider depression as ‘the flu of the mind.’ For someone who has lived with depression as long as I have – to the point where it’s like your second shadow – the disease is more like an incurable chronic illness than a brief cold. It needs constant management, and while you might get better, it’s a lifelong journey.”
This acceptance of her condition as something to be managed rather than “cured” feels like a major breakthrough. It allows Baek to be kinder to herself on bad days and to appreciate her progress without expecting perfection.
Cultural Context and Societal Pressures
While “I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki” is deeply personal, it also touches on broader societal issues, particularly around beauty standards and gender expectations in South Korea. Baek’s struggles with body image and her complicated relationship with makeup and fashion are likely to resonate with many readers, regardless of cultural background.
There’s a fascinating section where Baek grapples with feminism and her desire to reject oppressive beauty standards while still wanting to look attractive. It’s a nuanced exploration of the complexities many women face in trying to navigate societal expectations and personal desires.
The Pressure to Succeed
Another recurring theme is the intense pressure Baek feels to be successful and productive. We see her agonizing over her career, comparing herself to more accomplished peers, and feeling guilty for taking time off or prioritizing her mental health. It’s a stark reminder of how societal expectations can exacerbate mental health issues, particularly in high-pressure cultures.
Writing Style and Translation
Baek’s writing style, as translated by Anton Hur, is raw and conversational. The therapy session transcripts feel authentic, complete with moments of confusion, circular thoughts, and breakthroughs. This unpolished quality adds to the intimacy of the reading experience – it truly feels like we’re inside Baek’s head, for better or worse.
The book’s structure, organized around therapy sessions and specific incidents in Baek’s life, allows for a natural flow that mimics the ups and downs of the healing process. It’s not always a comfortable read – Baek’s negative self-talk can be intense at times – but it feels genuine and relatable.
Comparisons to Other Works
Fans of Baek’s first book will find much to appreciate here. While it covers similar ground, this sequel shows clear progression in Baek’s journey and offers deeper insights into the long-term realities of managing mental health.
For readers new to Baek’s work, this book can stand alone, though reading the first volume provides helpful context. It sits comfortably alongside other popular mental health memoirs like Matt Haig’s “Reasons to Stay Alive” or Jenny Lawson’s “Furiously Happy,” offering a uniquely Korean perspective on universal struggles.
Final Thoughts
“I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki” Further Conversations with My Psychiatrist” is not an easy read, but it’s an important one. Baek’s unflinching honesty about her mental health journey offers both comfort and challenge to readers. It reminds us that healing is rarely linear, that setbacks are normal, and that small victories are worth celebrating.
What stands out most is Baek’s courage in sharing her story so openly. By allowing us into her therapy sessions and innermost thoughts, she helps chip away at the stigma surrounding mental health treatment. Her journey reminds us that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness.
As Baek writes in the afterword, “I hope for the day when those who are unwell in the heart can get medical help as a matter of course and not be stigmatized for it or have their problems reduced by the people around them to evidence of weak will. When the wounds of the mind and soul shall carry the same weight of seriousness as the wounds of the body.”
It’s a powerful sentiment, and one that this book goes a long way towards advancing. For anyone struggling with mental health issues, or simply seeking to better understand the human mind, Baek’s memoir offers valuable insights, hard-won wisdom, and above all, the comfort of knowing you’re not alone in your struggles.
Who Should Read This Book
– Anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, or other mental health issues
– Readers interested in personal memoirs and stories of self-discovery
– Those curious about therapy and psychiatric treatment
– Anyone looking to better understand the complexities of the human mind
– Fans of Baek’s first book seeking to continue the journey with her
Content Warnings
The book contains discussions of depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm. While not gratuitous, these topics are addressed frankly and may be triggering for some readers.
In the end, “I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki: Further Conversations with My Psychiatrist” is a testament to the power of vulnerability, the importance of mental health treatment, and the ongoing nature of healing. It’s a book that will stay with you long after you turn the final page, challenging you to reflect on your own journey and perhaps inspiring you to be a little kinder to yourself along the way.