From the heart of Jerusalem: Gap year yeshiva students beware

They call it “Hitting the Wall.” Three or four months after arriving in Israel many first-year Yeshiva students feel morose, anxious, even depressed. I hit the wall back in December.

Each day I would spend eleven hours in the Beit Midrash pouring through texts, analyzing intricate argumentations, and discussing volatile issues in my life. Each night I would go to bed with strained eyes, my mind yearning for a respite, from the study and debate. And in this state of utter fatigue I would lie awake and wonder what I had done that day. In the midst of rigorous activity, I would feel listless, aimless, and purposeless.

Let’s backtrack to high school for a moment. Maimonides School was no joke. The nine-hour school day was a mere overture to the long night of restless toil. Stuffed in between were hours of extra-curricular activity. Exhaustion was a constant cloud in my mind. Also weighing on my mind was the perpetual stress imposed by the report card, a stress that permeated my entire day.

But as tired as I was, I was full of some inner energy that gave me tremendous momentum. I felt direction and purpose driving me on. I was never depressed. I was filled with a sense that all my endeavors were deeply worthwhile.

Now I’ve come to see that tests and deadlines were actually the source of these positive feelings. High school life was deadline-oriented. You work, you finish, you repeat. Every step of the way my goals were concrete and definite. I wanted a high grade; the formula to success was fairly straightforward—I needed to study and complete my homework.

Yeshiva was a culture shock. The tests were gone, sleep was plentiful and I was free to study as I pleased. It was a dream come true. But without the deadlines my life was left with a gaping hole. Sure I had my greater goals for the year—to develop a lasting relation with Judaism and sharpen my skills. But these targets were far more abstract. I didn’t know how to achieve my goals and certainly didn’t feel concretely closer to success at the end of each day. Without regular, numeric evaluations, small-scale progress was indiscernible. And therein lay the crisis. I worked arduously and felt immobile.