I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki: the bestselling South Korean therapy memoir

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The literal Ctrl+C of the discussions you have with your psychiatrist do not hold any literary merit, which surprises me and puts into question the validity of creative writing courses in Korea. Did 언니 learn nothing? 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 yen for her favorite street food: the hot, spicy rice cake, tteokbokki? Is this just what life is like? After three months of therapy the author states “Everything is a mess” and feels more out of control than before she started the therapy, which I fully understand, considering the low quality of sessions she had. Even if she sometimes felt the psychiatrist understands her, she never got any constructive guidance on how to solve her problems. What she received was several pieces of advice on how to avoid dealing with the problem, which seemed to be random ideas of her psychiatrist, not a product of their experience, qualifications and knowledge. For example, Baek complained about drinking too much but instead of investigating why she does that and what kind of coping mechanism her drinking is, her therapist just suggested avoiding friends with whom she goes drinking. This may be a common way of sweeping problems under the rug in Korean culture but it is totally inappropriate from the therapy’s perspective as it does not solve the root cause of the issue. I could name many more similar tips the author received. I learned from the book that the author spent ten years in therapy and didn’t end up much wiser. No wonder. The psychiatrist prescribed her a ton of medications without explaining the reasons for doing so, side effects, expected results and even ways of seeing when the medication starts working (!): “I’m going to change your medication a bit. The antidepressants will lift you from the ground a little more, and I’ll also include some mood stabilisers”. I have heard of this level of incompetence from some of my Asian students and I don’t need to mention how extremely frustrated it makes me. Denying a patient knowledge about their health and treatment is a gross misconduct. The book is a write up of Baek’s time in therapy discussing this, as well as how she tends to use food for comfort. Usually the psychologist in me means that I have issues over confidentially, but as this is specifically Baek’s own stuff, I think I’m okay.

I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki - Yumpu I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki - Yumpu

You are fine now, just the way you are. You might say silly things when drunk, there may be side effects from the pills, but you’re fine. If the latter happens, all you have to do is call me up and swear at me.’ But if she's so hopeless, why can she always summon a desire for her favourite street food, the hot, spicy rice cake, tteokbokki? Is this just what life is like?

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Se-hee is blunt yet charming, I couldn't help but respect her throughout this book. The best parts of the text are her essays, which come at the beginning of each chapter, and at the end of the book. I WANT TO DIE BUT I WANT TO EAT TTEOKBOKKI has a fantastic, catchy title, which was what originally gravitated me towards this book. As someone who gets depressed and also has anxiety, this book sounded high-key relatable and I was really excited to read it. Salah satu buku tentang mental illness yang bagus. Tapi tulisan penulis yang lebih ke "ringkasan" dari sesi tanya-jawab itu lebih membekas buatku. Hanya ada satu 'aku' di dunia. Dengan begitu aku adalah sesuatu yang amat spesial. Diriku adalah sesuatu yang harus kujaga selamanya. Diriku adalah sesuatu yang harus kubantu secara perlahan, kutuntun selangkah demi selangkah dengan penuh kasih sayang dan kehangatan. Diriku adalah sesuatu yang butuh istirahat sesaat sambil menarik napas panjang atau terkadang butuh cambukan agar bisa bergerak ke depan. Aku percaya aku akan menjadi semakin bahagia jika aku semakin sering melihat ke dalam diriku sendiri.” (h. 111) It’s hard, it’s a long game, and although probably life changing, it doesn’t feel like it at the time. This one won’t give you a lightbulb moment, but it might make you feel very heard and a lil warm.

I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki - Apple Books

Will strike a chord with anyone who feels that their public life is at odds with how they really feel inside.' RedI wonder about others like me, who seem totally fine on the outside but are rotting on the inside, where the rot is this vague state of being not-fine and not-devastated at the same time.” Catatan teknis: Halaman warna pink (atau ungu?) nggak nyaman banget dibaca. Apalagi yang full begitu huhu. Dan kadang banyak spasi renggang (mungkin karena tipe dialog, beberapa kata yang nggak dipenggal bikin renggangnya jadi nggak nyaman dibaca). Selain itu, masih menemukan "rubah" di buku ini, haha.

I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki (Audio Download I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki (Audio Download

There’s a desire to punish yourself, shall we say. You have this superego that exerts control over you, a superego built not only from your own experiences but cobbled together from all sorts of things that you admire, creating an idealised version of yourself. But that idealised version of yourself is, in the end, only an ideal. It’s not who you actually are. You keep failing to meet that ideal in the real world, and then you punish yourself. If you have a strict superego, the act of being punished eventually becomes gratifying. For example, if you’re suspicious of the love you’re receiving, and so act out until your partner lashes out and leaves you, you feel relief. You eventually become controlled more by imaginary outside forces than anything that is actually you.’ In her, book, Baek wrote about how she thinks ‘empathy’ is a form of one’s ‘imagination’. I just think differently, or at least I don't vibe with her views. But that's alright, right? Different people, different views? Hopefully it resonates more with you than it did me. If you're curious about what my coworkers think about on a daily basis with their weak ass sugary mix coffee, here it is. The author claims to have learned several things - she understood that she can let herself be, that she can let herself feel whatever she feels, that she interprets events in her life depending on her mood. However, I would expect her to learn this and start processing the positive change within the first month of therapy, not after ten years. The fact that her psychiatrist didn’t give her any homework, didn’t explain what they are going to do in their therapy sessions, left me speechless.Alas, the book has a major problem: It is unbelievably boring. The educational impulse is overwhelming, protagonist Baek remains a chiffre, and the (highly professional) dynamic between her and her therapist doesn't allow for enough immersion. Also, you would expect more complexity from a novel that focuses on the guidance of a mental health professional - but then again, I suppose the author wanted to connect to younger people who are afraid to reach out for help, and for this demographic, this highly accessible approach might be justified.