Just some ponderous thoughts:

Sometimes, I'm amazed at my own stupidity, and my utterly useless ability to create and live in meticulously constructed and perfected alternate universes.

Sometimes, truths sucker-punch me in the face so hard I feel it in my gut and I can't breathe or cry or protest or speak -- unfortunately, I can still scornfully laugh at myself. I lose even the minimal energy required to drag myself to bed, and I can't look at myself in the mirror for the gaping wound staring back at me.

Sometimes, I become so weary and exhausted that I can't sleep, and I lie awake wondering how I got myself into this situation in the first place.

See, I don't always use humor as a defense. Sometimes, I'm defenseless.