It’s hard. Like, really hard. Sometimes impossible… to write, communicate, or even think coherently while you’re depressed. It feels like nothing will ever be good enough, so why even try? That self-critic can be louder than anything else around — which can be saying something when your senses are already overloaded (re: autism).
Writing about an idea or event requires you to come back to how that event affected you and how you felt at the time. And when you’re depressed, that is often the exact opposite of what you want to do. You just want it to stop. To be distracted from the debilitating power of the moment. To be “normal” again.
Returning to such sad or even harmful thoughts can be enough to freeze you in place, inhibiting any sort of forward motion at all. So you don’t even put pen to paper; you don’t even open up your text editor — let alone put down any of those thoughts.
And if you are somehow able to put words to page, it’s rarely anything of substance. Quite often it’s just stream of consciousness gibberish, just whatever words you happen to stumble upon.
But often if you can push through the garbage, you find yourself slowly opening up. Slowly the barrier between mind and thought, thought and idea, idea and word begins to soften, allowing your words to come closer to hitting the mark.