Most writers will tell you that there is no “mood to write.” You must meet the paper (or your laptop, or whatever you use) every day. Put pen to paper and write. Just start.
And I have always followed that rule, for the most part, because if I didn’t get the poems and stories and, for the past few years, ideas and complaints and responses to the world around me out, I would burst. Knowing that I feel that way makes me confident in my craft.
But lately it’s been difficult, and this difficulty has reminded me of other times in my life when I struggled to let the ink run. Each of these times in my past was due to a depression of some sort—one in high school, another in college—when it would have been most beneficial to me to write in the first place. That’s how I’m feeling right now, as I find sitting and typing to be almost painful.