The performance Vivere la Morte (‘living the death’) is rooted wi- thin the experience of sharing the space of my childhood with de- pression, the one my mother coped with and so did I since, unin- tentionally, ‘man hands on misery to man’. The performance will emulate what I have seen to be an often history my mother expe- rienced, the rigidity of her silent body, sitting, dramatically abando- ned on the couch, gazing the white wall of our living room. A brea- thing body, possessed by catalepsy. Her worn staring, as well as that wall, became to me the allegorical embodiment of the unspoken torture she was going through, the unsustainability of her coping with chronic desperation. That home space, which was supposed to be safe and meant for mutual exchange of affection, turned out to be a non-living room, where I beheld my mother dying each day.