I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki

In this frank sequel to I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki, Sehee continues to document her treatment for depression and anxiety. Organized into 14 essays, each themed after one of Sehee’s insecurities and framed by recorded conversations between the author and her psychiatrist, this memoir digs deeper than its predecessor, thanks in part to Sehee’s realization, after reading Roxane Gay’s Hunger, that she “had never been honest with myself, even as I’d baldly declared how revealing my darkness to the light was the way to become free.” In plain prose (Hur’s translation can border on dull), Sehee recounts obsessing over casual comments made by colleagues and friends, her debilitating fear of death, and her occasional self-harm. In the candid back-and-forths with her therapist, Sehee comes to realize she “lets others too much into myself,” and resolves to trust her own voice. As with the previous book, the dialogues oscillate between arresting and numbing, with some conversations robbed of their potential power by the limits of the format. Still, Sehee’s admirable commitment to showing her “deepest inner wounds” will resonate with readers struggling to unpack their own mental health issues. (Aug.)