By: Stefanie Kosim
Hello, Hanyang Business School students! How’s the new semester going? I hope everything goes well, both with your study and your university life.
Today, I bring a special book recommendation to the table, from a comfort that I unexpectedly found from the title that is so painfully blunt. “I want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki” by Baek Sehee was the book that serves you with comforting reality, doesn’t pretend to fix you, but makes you feel seen in the most quiet, honest way.

Before we jump into the reason why I recommend this book to my fellow university student friends, here’s quick preview of the book:
“I have this emptiness in me. Like something’s always missing. But then I eat tteokbokki, and for a while, that empty space feels full.”
This book is a real-life transcript of the author’s sessions with her psychiatrist, paired with her reflections. Baek Sehee, a young publishing professional in Seoul, candidly opens up about her struggle with dysthymia—persistent, low-grade depression. What makes it stand out is how normal she seems. She has a job, she meets friends, she posts selfies. And yet, inside, she’s battling waves of self-doubt and sadness.
If you are a university student that are struggling to overcome your worries and anxiousness, this book seems like a friend who understands you and your 20s problems and anxieties. It doesn’t provide answers in the form of glitzy, Instagram-worthy sayings. Instead, it asks the questions you didn’t even know you were carrying around:
- Why do I feel empty even when things seem fine?
- Is it okay that I’m not okay?
- How do I live with sadness without letting it define me?
University is supposed to be the “time of your life,” right? But let’s be real. It’s also a chaotic mix of anxiety, identity crises, pressure to succeed, and pretending you’re okay because everyone else seems to have it together. Reading this book felt like whispering, “me too,” to someone who won’t judge.
This isn’t a self-help book. It’s not here to fix you. What it does is hold up a mirror and say, “You’re not alone in feeling this way.” Baek Sehee never tries to dramatize her mental health struggles or glamorize them. Instead, she simply writes them out—raw, messy, and real. There’s something beautiful about that honesty.
It also tackles the guilt we often feel for being sad when we have “no reason” to be. That strange guilt of living a relatively “normal” life but still feeling like something’s broken inside. And if you’ve ever experienced that, this book will make you feel seen in the most comforting way.
I read this book during late-night tea, in between tense projects, and while sitting in a train and gazing out the window as if I were watching a play. It’s the type of book that subtly sticks in your mind long after you’ve finished reading it rather than giving off an inspirational vibe. And the title? iconic. Indeed, there are moments when we feel like we’re crumbling, but we still want to consume something hot and spicy, like tteokbokki. And that might be sufficient. On the worst days, perhaps that is the glimmer of optimism we require. Thus, whether you’re feeling overburdened, emotionally spent, or simply want to read something authentic, pick this up. It won’t take care of every issue you have. However, it could make you sit with them a bit more empathetically.
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