I was mesmerized by I Want to Die but I want to Eat Tteokbokki. I read it quickly, because I wanted to swallow it up, both for Baek Se Hee's transparency throughout, and for the wisdom of the psychiatrist. Their back-and-forth, calm and a little disjointed, read like transcripts, as if I were overhearing their conversation. Sometimes I felt like I was in therapy myself, and sometimes I felt like I was eavesdropping on a very interesting session. I couldn't stop myself from gulping down this book, and I have a feeling that I will be reaching for it during difficult times.

Overall, I'm so glad I read I Want to Die but I want to Eat Tteokbokki. I think this book is going to be a phenomenon, and it deserves the attention.

Thank you to NetGalley and Bloomsbury for the advance review copy in exchange for an honest review. All views are my own.

Have you ever read a book that hits just a bit too close to home?

An honest, poignant and truly heart-wrenching take on the reality of living with depression. A must read for anyone looking for a reminder that you're not alone.

The name of the book really grabs your attention so you can see why I picked it up in the first place! However, it was most definitely what was inside of the the book that had me read it in one sitting, and it was one that took me in a direction I didn’t expect.

This is an essay novel exploring the author’s personal experience with depression, anxiety, and dealing with life's difficult emotions in general. This was something that can be a hard topic to digest but I’m glad I read it all as it took me on a journey to examine my own mental state and explore my world a little more in detail. It speaks openly and honestly about the experience with depression and therapy, while not brushing off any of the messy ways the journey to healing yourself can take you.

It shows how avoiding such topics can be more harmful than we expect, and also to examine ourselves (the anxieties and pressures we feel) in a new light. Most importantly, it goes over topics on how we shouldn't ignore them and learn to care for ourselves. I found it quite comforting how honest Baek was in this novel, it never felt forced or harsh to read, it felt like most people would be able to get something out of this story, it felt honest and open.

Thank you to Bloomsbury & NetGalley for the ARC for review.

I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki is an interesting little book. After being diagnosed with dysthemia (persistent, mild depression), the author, Baek Se hee, recorded 12 weeks of sessions with her therapist and transcribed them to create it, adding bits of commentary before and after each recorded session for some context and reflection.

This was both a compelling & frustrating read. Compelling because there aren't a lot of books that address this super common but sort of in between kind of depression that's encapsulated very well in the title - everything sucks but also, I could go for a snack. The author says in the prologue, "Even in my most unbearably depressed moments I could be laughing at a friend's joke but still feel an emptiness in my heart, and then feel an emptiness in my stomach, which would make me go out and eat some tteokbokki -- what was wrong with me?" She speaks of not being "deathly depressed," but also not all the way happy, and the struggles of existing in that in between place. As mental health awareness rises, we are seeing more and more stories addressing the extremes of depression, anxiety, and trauma, and so few of this common limbo area so many of us are acquainted with.

It's frustrating at the same time, though, in ways that Baek actually voices in her sessions. She repeatedly asks her therapist, "Why am I like this?," usually after receiving some simple clarity or perspective on an issue she's raised. It's very tempting to yell back, "RIGHT? Why ARE you like this?" Because when these extremely candid sessions are written out, Baek comes across as needlessly self-critical, overly concerned with the opinions of others, stuck in the same behavior patterns, and even self-destructive at times. You almost want to shake her.

Back to the prologue, though.

She says, "I had an urge to find others who felt the way I did. So I decided, instead of aimlessly wandering in search of these others, to be the person *they* could look for -- to hold my hand up high and shout, *I'm right here.* hoping that someone would see me waving, recognise themselves in me and approach me, so we could find comfort in each other's existence."

And also, "In the end, my hope is for people to read this book and think, *I wasn't the only person who felt like this;* or, *I see now that people live with this.*

Even as I was frustrated reading someone else voicing these thoughts, it was undeniable that at least some of them were familiar. She has a bad day, but what right does she have to complain when other people have it so much worse? She doesn't want to be dependent on anyone, but admits she needs someone to check in on and care about her every day in order to be happy. She holds herself to standards she would never dream of measuring anyone else against. She carries insecurities from childhood bullying into her adult daily habits. She drinks too much and regrets her actions the next day. She replays conversations over and over in her mind, overanalyzes every interpersonal interaction to try to guess where she stands with people - and she is only ever hated or liked. And that's just a small sampling of things it's exhausting to read coming from someone else, but almost all of us have running through our minds on a loop at one point or another, or maybe always.

Overall, the transcribed conversations don't offer anything particularly new or revelatory for a person in the same situation, with the same condition. You're left with the feeling that something like dysthemia just IS, and you can slowly work on it - this book isn't going to give you any help with that. In that sense, it can get a bit tedious. There's not really anything new on offer, and another person's therapy sessions are not especially interesting.

That said, there is a section at the end called Appendix: The Positive Function of Depression. It comes after a short note from the author, and an even shorter not from the therapist, both of which are nice. This appendix, though, is the absolute star of the book. It's a long chain of sort of micro-essays, touching on a lot of the topics brought up in the sessions and the author's life, in the author's actual writing voice, not her "therapy voice." It was not just enjoyable to read, but also felt gratifying -- while reading the therapy sessions sometimes felt like watching someone spin their wheels, this felt like all the results of a long project pouring in at once. The appendix alone is worth picking up the book.

Recommended for anyone who is feeling a little here and a little there; sad but not sad enough to feel like you're allowed to complain about it; not very happy but also totally down for a churro if you've got one, why not.

(This review is based on a digital ARC I received through Bloomsbury. Thank you, Bloomsbury, for the ARC.)

I was excited to read this when I saw there was an English translation of it. This book is about the author's honest experiences of dealing with mental illness (specifically dysthymia, anxiety, and low self-esteem) and her efforts of moving forward. There's also some transcriptions of the author's therapy sessions and her reflections on them.

The author expresses her frustrations of going back and forth between good days and bad days, feeling like she's made so little progress. I felt this was really relatable. Despite not dealing with similar problems, I found several points made in the therapy sessions insightful. I spent time rereading certain parts to absorb everything that was being said and I highlighted quotes that I wanted to be able to refer back to later. I enjoyed reading this book and I'm glad experiences like this are being written and discussed more openly.

A very honest and intimate look at mental health. This is a relatively short book, but I found that I had to read it slowly in different sections order to digest it properly. The heaviness of the content plus the personal nature of the format meant I couldn't read too much at once.

I think what I appreciated most about this memoir is the realism and honesty. There's no perfect solution or cure. The author takes us on a journey through these transcripts as she comes to a better understanding of her own mental health. She improves but still continues to struggle with anxiety, self esteem, and self worth. It's very realistic, though still hopeful.

The book does a fantastic job at discussing mental health and wellness, specifically anxiety and depression. I found the author to be very relatable when it came to discussing their ability to connect with people and the anxiety of certain situations and wanting to push yourself to connect with others more. I think it would have been a bit more interesting to be shown these steps rather than talked about after the fact transcript-style with the psychiatrist. For example, there was a session where she talks about her experience in the movie club and it would have been interesting to actually see that play out rather than read about it as a discussion between the psychiatrist and author later on. Otherwise, the book does a great job at portraying one person's relationship with mental health and therapy.

I Want To Die but I Want to Eat Tteobokki is an intimate and honest account of the authors' struggle with depression, anxiety and low self-esteem told through transcripts of Baek's conversations with her therapist. While I always appreciate and look for honesty in the books I read, I found that, in this case, being so forcefully intimate with the author's struggle was uncomfortable to read about and made me read slower than I should've. Due to the way it was written, it promised an easy read; it is anything but. Heart breakingly open and personal, it is sure to resonate with a lot of people, but unfortunately I am not one of them.