If I'm honest, the only reason I came back from sick leave was the fear that the Sun would somehow extend its deadly tendrils into my Facebook page, and run a story about "She says she's too DEPRESSED TO WORK, but she's been CAVORTING in BRIGHTON with GAYS! And FOREIGNERS! And FOREIGN GAYS!!" and I'd become a national hate figure and be cast out from society and have to wander lonely as a cow for the rest of my days.
Though on reflection, they'd only care if I was on benefits. As my brain-wrong is only financially hurting a charity - a charity which is not Help For Heroes - as folk devils go, I'd be a bit of a disappointment.
(This is one of those moments where you want to fall to your knees in gratitude for the unbelievable luxury of sick pay, and not being reliant on private insurance to keep you in meds and food: because otherwise, looking happy on Facebook could literally take the roof from over your head.)
I'm still braindead, unfortunately. Tell me things to be outraged about.