When I get really really really sad, I lose my words. This has happened all of my life.
It's like a tar has attached itself to my jaw. I am unable to open my mouth. My thoughts continue, lots of sentences I want to say but I just don't. I'm not quite sure how to describe it. I can make noises if I push myself quite hard but, it makes me hurt inside when I do.
It's never been a problem growing up, my family was wonderful. I was never pushed to talk, maybe it was a mix of my mom being just as depressed as I was, or me being known as 'quiet', but I don't think they even know. I was always allowed just to escape to my room or the office.
During school it was an issue because kids and especially teachers, they can be really mean. When forced to speak I would echo someone else's words, usually a TV show. But these echoed words were just echos and not necessarily my thoughts. Sometimes I've said things that I actually completely disagree with. These incidents haunt me. But, the nice part about being an adult is that I have absolutely no contact with anyone from my past so it is easy to bury these memories.
Work is actually a non-issue regarding this. I work for a company that is based on the internet so most of my communications are done via instant messenger.
It happens a lot less now that I am older, I can recognize the taste of depression and work around it. My husband is the greatest person. He'll let me not speak, he'll let me make a noise or point, or use the limited sign language we know. (We have a goal to learn ASL). Other times, he recognizes when I am extremely sad and in my own way. Like, I can get fixated on one thought over and over and he can help un-stick the gears and move me to the next thought. Usually this is done by being silly, laying on the floor with me, tickles, or our ridiculous arguments.
Side note: ridiculous arguments are a good thing. Our relationship was founded on him being the only person that could keep up with me when arguing about silly things. I love logic, and thinking logically, and he can be so illogical and it makes both of us jump through hoops trying to win. It is utterly fabulous.
Another side note: sometime I can text, sometimes I cannot. It can be really overwhelming to try and translate my thoughts into words. I think in pictures.
I used to absolutely hate this about myself. I thought I was broken and worthless. I tried to hide it but that only made the problem worse. I don't mind it so much anymore. Now that I don't fight it, it actually really helps during the sad times. I'm not quite sure how to explain why, or what it does, but maybe one day I will. It just feels nicer to not talk than it does to force me to talk.