Please Note That The Following Individual Books As Per Original ISBN and Cover Image In this Listing shall be Dispatched
Baek Sehee Collection 2 Books Set (I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki, I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki):
I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki : 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.
I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Baek Sehee started recording her sessions with her psychiatrist because she hoped to create a guide for herself. She never imagined her reflections would reach so many people, especially young people. I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki became a runaway bestseller in South Korea, then Indonesia, the U.K., and the U.S.. 9781526648099/9781639732302
Baek Se-hee (Korean: 백세희) was a South Korean author best known for her memoir, I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki (2018), and its sequel, I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki (2019). Both works related to her treatment for depression and her conflicted thoughts about it.
“Because the human heart, even when it wants to die, quite often wants at the same time to eat some tteokbokki”
I read this during a time when I was isolating myself from everything. a quiet disconnection from everything, I didn’t necessarily have the will to live, or even the desire to exist. Days felt heavy, and even the simplest things felt pointless. It scared me, not because I wanted to die, but because I felt nothing strong enough to hold on to.
but deep down, I knew that emptiness wasn’t what I truly wanted theres a somewhere deep down of me that doesn’t really want to di. because ik I’ve barely lived, and yet I carry dreams that feel too real to ignore. I want to become a lawyer. I want to move abroad. I want to experience a life that I haven’t even begun to fully touch. Those desires didn’t disappear they were just buried under the weight of everything I couldn’t process at the time.
That’s why this book stayed with me. It doesn’t try to fix you or overwhelm you with grand reasons to live. Instead, it speaks quietly, almost gently, reminding you that even in your lowest moments, there is still something in you that reaches for life no matter how small. Just like the author desire to eat tteokbokki.
And maybe that’s the point. Maybe the will to live doesn’t always come in big, life changing realizations. Sometimes it exists in the smallest, most ordinary things. A craving, a routine, a fleeting thought of the future. Something simple, but enough to remind you that you’re still here and that part of you is still choosing to stay.
In the end, this book made me realize that even when everything feels empty, the smallest wants still count. And maybe holding on to those small things, again and again, is how we slowly find our way back to wanting to live.
In I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki, Baek Sehee provides an unfiltered look at what it’s like to live with a constant, low-level cloud of depression. Rather than offering a perfect "cure," the book invites readers into her private therapy sessions to witness the reality of mental health struggles. The title beautifully illustrates the "middle ground" of high-functioning anxiety, the strange way you can feel completely lost while still craving the simple joy of your favorite snack.
Keywords of this book: Dysthymia: A chronic, long-term form of depression where a person's moods are regularly low. High-Functioning: Appearing capable and successful to the outside world while struggling internally. Paradox: A seemingly absurd or self-contradictory statement that when investigated may prove to be well founded or true.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki by Baek Sehee
I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki (Book Two) felt like returning to therapy with a friend only to realize that this session was going to be significantly heavier than the previous one and asking yourself if you should call it quit on Seating through this experience with them .
Much like the first book, the sequel consists of conversations between Baek Sehee and her psychiatrist alongside reflections on her daily life, relationships, insecurities, and mental health struggles. However, while the first book felt introspective and quietly comforting, this one ventures into considerably darker territory.
Themes of self-harm, suicidality, emotional exhaustion, and a near-death experience feature prominently throughout the book, making for a much more emotionally demanding reading experience.
Reading it often felt like moving between:
“This is such an honest portrayal of mental illness.”
and
“Respectfully, I need everyone involved to go outside and sit in the sun for a bit.”
One of the book’s central ideas is that healing is not linear and certainly not final. There is no dramatic breakthrough, miraculous cure, or neat conclusion where everything suddenly makes sense. Instead, recovery is portrayed as an ongoing process of continually choosing yourself, even when doing so feels difficult.
The book repeatedly explores self-worth, shame, loneliness, identity, and the exhausting work of learning how to exist comfortably within your own mind.
What I appreciated most was its honesty. Baek Sehee refuses to romanticize recovery or package healing into an inspirational narrative. Instead, she presents mental health as messy, cyclical, frustrating, and deeply human.
However, I personally enjoyed the first book more. The first installment balanced vulnerability with moments of warmth and relatability, whereas this sequel felt considerably darker and at times emotionally draining.
At some point the entire book started feeling like:
“What if healing is lifelong, self-love is a practice rather than a destination, and becoming mentally well is less about fixing yourself and more about learning to coexist with yourself?”
And honestly, that may be the book’s greatest strength.
By the end, there is no complete cure only a continued commitment to self-understanding and self-compassion.
Overall rating: 7.5/10.
A thoughtful and deeply honest read, but if there is a third installment, I fear I may need therapy both before proceeding.
The books consists of a series of chapters, lengthy dialogues between the writer and her therapist (who was kind enough to allow Baek to record the sessions…). These sections consist of a back and forth between the two in which they look back at the week just gone, discussing the highs and lows..
The reason for her decision to open up her sessions to the wider world is to show others who may be suffering from similar issues that they’re not alone. Somehow I can relate to her. And I really appreciate her therapist because she handle the author very well on their sessions, points out issues very well said, and she is a very good listener.
It’s a very comfort read. I would recommend it if you or someone you know has ever suffered from anxiety or depression, either as a way to understand more about yourself or others around you suffering. You may also end up discovering something about yourself.
bought the first one when I saw it at an AAPI queer / female owned bookshop & was immediately drawn to it. as I read it, I took notes with little pieces of sticky notes I kept tearing off next to my bed & writing on before I would go to sleep. when I finished it, I felt like I was being seen from the inside out.
when I saw that baek sehee came out with a 2nd book, I of course bought it at the first bookstore that had it on hand. before I finished reading it, I found out that she had passed away, which made reading this all the more difficult. nonetheless, I wouldn’t have wanted to be seen by anyone else. what a wonderful soul baek was. I’m so glad I was able to be seen by you & vice versa.
it’s not really a self-help book. it’s mostly conversations between the author and her psychiatrist, and somehow that made it feel more real.
not gonna lie, there were moments when i felt like the psychiatrist wasn’t helping at all. but there were also so many parts that made me stop and think:
“oh… you can feel this way?” “oh, so it’s okay for me to feel this way too?”
A book I deeply related to and thoroughly enjoyed. It felt like reading parts of myself on the page—my thoughts, struggles, and quiet reflections mirrored back to me. Thought-provoking, comforting, and one that stayed with me long after I turned the final page.