We talk endlessly about mental health but have a poor grasp of emotional pain. Here’s what truly helps

From what I understand of Baek Se-hee’s book, I Want to Die, but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki, which was referred to in a recent Mint column (‘Why reasons needn’t be ascribed for poor mental health,’ 27 October 2025), it is about a woman experiencing dysthymia who also talks about how she seeks comfort in her favourite food. The book is about her mental health journey.

First, I want to clarify that therapy is not something that is meant only for people who are struggling with an illness. The field has moved beyond holding one’s parents and childhood responsible for what one experiences. The school of thought I come from has taught me that therapy is ‘Islands of work in an ocean of empathy.’

Thus, therapy is also for self-growth, understanding oneself, developing a healthy relationship with oneself and so much more. I also want readers to understand that it is absolutely human to want to talk through things and to feel vulnerable. There is a lot of strength in vulnerability.

While I appreciate the intention of the author who wrote the column that refers to Se-hee’s book, there were certain things that I felt I could clarify for Mint readers about how the professional view on mental health has evolved.

Three common pitfalls deserve close examination.

One, generalizations of how a person experiences emotions and their condition.

Two, an emphasis on the use of labels.

Three, misconceptions about how a person’s self-esteem can affect them.

Now let’s look into each one of them in some detail.

It is tempting to reduce a person’s experience, whether it’s their everyday life or an encounter with something devastating, by saying, “Everybody experiences difficulties and feels sad or anxious about things. Just get up and have fun!" Such statements do nothing but sound invalidating to someone in a lot of emotional pain.

How a person experiences themselves and their emotions is always unique. It cannot be generalized as it differs from how everyone else may feel. I may react to a job loss with a lot of resilience and grit, and work towards changing for the better, while my friend could feel a huge sense of grief over it. There is no ‘right way’ to experience something; both reactions need to be understood and respected. And there is definitely a reason why two people react differently to the same situation. Several factors contribute to that.

As an individual and as a mental health professional, I prefer not to attribute certain labels to my clients. I put it across as goals that we could collaboratively work towards. In this age of information overload, people don’t need more information from mental health professionals (unless they ask for something specific), but they need an understanding of what is happening within themselves.

Having said this, it does not mean that giving or seeking a mental health diagnosis is wrong. The book protagonist’s description of her issues is not a misattribution to her dysthymia diagnosis. Rather, it is how she experiences herself and her life.

Working with low self-esteem or a sense of shame within a person is my area of interest. From experience, I can tell that the many effects of low self-esteem are either taken for granted or go unnoticed in people.

In her book, Se-hee struggles with low self-esteem and it is not something that can be reduced to ‘everybody experiences this.’ She was South Korean. Research has shown that Asian culture (which is collectivistic) is shame- and guilt-driven, prioritizing the group (family , friends , society etc) over the individual. This has its own pros and cons.

A sense of shame has also been associated with several clinical conditions. What the author of the book experienced did not just stem from her ‘imagination’ of trying to find reasons for her pain, but some of it was also a consequence of her sense of shame.

Shame can feel extremely paralysing and handicapping for people, affecting several aspects of one’s life—such as the interpersonal, work and ‘self’ domains. It can feel extremely negative and debilitating.

The nature of shame is that it makes one want to hide and never show oneself to others, often in the fear that others may see one’s imperfections. This can lead to a lot of self-criticism, causing a sinking apprehension that one may never measure up to something or someone’s expectations. In short, it can make people feel very fragile.

What people in emotional pain need most is not advice, but your presence. Not your correction, but connection. This is the essence of what we as a society must keep in mind when we reach out to someone in need.

Remember that healing doesn’t start when we have all the answers; it starts when someone finally feels seen and understood. Let’s not dive in to ‘fix’ problems. Instead, let’s just learn to listen.

The author is a clinical psychologist and trainer.