“This Is What Depression Looks Like”: Mom Writes Relatable Post About the Painful Reality of Depression

If you’ve ever suffered from depression, you know it’s a silent monster eating away at you from the inside out — and it wears so many faces.

Whether it looks like a smiling wife or a frazzled mother, appearance does not dictate how deadly it feels in the pit of your stomach.

Everyday tasks can seem impossible. Showering, getting out of bed, putting on your shoes, driving to the grocery store, and doing the dishes can all seem like huge mountains that you simply can’t move because the monster is holding you down with the weight of its negative, invisible presence.

And the vicious cycle only perpetuates as self-loathing and worthlessness set in when you can’t accomplish simple tasks.

While many Christians are tempted to think depression is a spiritual problem, it is actually a very real medical problem that stems from a chemical imbalance. It’s as real as cancer, and though it can’t be seen, it can wreak havoc on your whole life.

The way depression cripples each person may vary, but sharing our different stories and experiences can make sufferers feel a little less alone in this world.

Brittany Ernsperger decided to do just that in a viral Facebook post that has been widely shared across the web by people who feel the same way. Read her post in full below, and be sure to share your own personal experience in the comments. In the words of Brittany, “we can only help one another by lifting each other up.” Remember you are NOT alone:

“This is what depression looks like.”

“No. Not the clean dishes.
But that there were that many dishes in the first place; that I’ve gone 2 weeks without doing them.

[Three] days ago I sat on the kitchen floor and stared at them while I cried. I knew they needed to be done. I wanted to do them so bad.
But depression pulled me under. It sucked me in. Like a black hole. Rapidly, sinking quick-sand.

I walked by them morning and night and all day long. And just looked at them. Telling myself that I could do them. Telling myself that I would. And feeling defeated [every day] that I didn’t. Making the depression only that much worse because not accomplishing something that needs to be done is failure.