I hear different sentences for it all the time: “It’s all falling apart” or “It’s crumbling.”

It’s depression.

My friend visited that place the other day. “It’s been two days” she said to be exact. “Actually three” she admitted afterwards.

No one could say or do anything to get her out of there. Almost no one.

“Depression is not a crime.” — she read me a quote from Tzvi Freeman’s A Daily Dose of Wisdom from the Lubavitcher Rebbe this one on self-destruction — “But it pushes a person into an abyss deeper than any crime could reach. Depression is a ploy instigated by the self-destructive elements within all of us. Once depressed a person could do anything. Fight depression as a blood-sworn enemy. Run from it as you would run from death itself.”

She told me the story. Our conversation went like this:

“You sound like you’re below sea level” I said.

“Deeper” she said.

“What’s bothering you?”

“The dining room chairs are dirty. The house is ugly and the walls need painting.”

“Nope that’s not it” I said.

“I don’t feel good. I have a stomach flu.”

“Nope not it.”

When a person is in the dumps the conversation always moves on to children and spouses and money and all the major players in depression.

And the answer always remained “Not it.”

“So what do you want to do?”

”Go out for a walk.”

“I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because my body won’t move. I feel like I’m in prison.”

“Why?

“Because the house is a mess and I’m not doing a good job in teaching everyone to pitch in.”

“So what does that mean?”

“That I’m not a good mother.”

“So you can’t go out because the house is a mess and the house is a mess and ugly because you’re not a good mother.”

“Exactly.” And then she cried.

“You’re punishing yourself.”

In all the years of her life she’d never heard of this concept.

“Why would I punish myself?”

“For the reason you just told me. Because you’re bad. You’re a bad mother a bad teacher a bad housekeeper. You’re bad right?”

“And bad people deserve to be punished …” She got it.

Though these words might make you feel like you should throw in the towel and call it a day somehow the realization that she really did believe she was bad — and that she was actually punishing herself — was actually liberating.

“So you’re a bad mother. So what?”

Trying to convince her that she’s not a bad mother at that moment would never work because if your yetzer hara wants to work on you by telling you you’re a bad mother no mortal can convince you otherwise. It’s like sending a goat to Azazel. You have to feed the “other side” to keep it quiet give him something to chew while you break out of his grips.

“Fine. You’re a bad mother. But … you have to love yourself where you are” I said to her while she was busy chomping on the bad-mother line.

“Love yourself where and how you are because this is exactly how Hashem created you. He knows what you can do and what you can’t. Once you accept this you’ll be free.”

Silence on the other end.

“So what are you going to do now?” I asked.

“Going for a walk. Breaking out.”