Fish food for brain health

Pompano Beach, South Florida

One of the great things about South Florida is this discount wholesaler called Penn Dutch. Their prices are through the roof low low low. Their fish counter is teeming with life.  I swear, they have fresh Chilean Seabass at 12.00 a lb. Crazy. At the regular market it’s almost 30.00 lb.

There is a town north of Hollywood, where I live,  called “Pompano Beach” and I found out that it’s named after the Pompano fish, which you can catch just off the coast across from my house. So I went to Penn Dutch yesterday, bought two whole Pompano Fishes, had them fileted (I don’t cut fish) and made this coconut milk, Thai Chile and Mint Herb soaked Pompano fish 4 first time. It’s actually a hell of a lot better than farmed Tilapia, which tastes just like the dirt pellets they feed it.

Good intentions clobber Mental Health Writer and Volunteer.

I’ve hit a snag with mental health advocacy. I volunteered for years at the nearby drop in. I had high security clearance and brought meetings into the psych ward. I developed an eating disorder meeting for them. I got sick with depression and a three year struggle with trying to get Tardive Dyskinesia under control…with both conditions I couldn’t volunteer for about a year  and I fell off the volunteer rolls. Well again, well, well enough, I offered to bring a gentle Pilates Mat class and even get certified in group activity safety measures for them and for me. Well, as you can imagine, since the whole ‘story’ I tried to nicely write about them went south, they no longer think I’m ‘well’ enough to be a volunteer.

Despite this, I still tried to write a nice story about them and their services for International Bipolar Disorder. I interviewed the project director and took good notes. I gave her final editorial approval since I did want to quote her and wanted to improve our relationship. I guess I sent too many emails because as my deadline came and went, she was on vacation and I did not know. When she returned, I got a nasty email full of hypocritical ‘mindfulness’  telling me that her ‘intention’ is to show me kindness but I make it impossible by ‘bombarding’ her with emails. My deadline for the story had come and gone and I wanted to finish it. She works with the mentally ill so why should she expect so much out of me? Am I being discriminated against because I’m too high functioning? Let’s face it, I’m verbal, I’m not all doped up and docile and I ask questions. I try to express myself and spread the good news about treatment options, present and in the pipeline. And you would not believe how much is in the pipeline!!! Ketamine is a comin’!

Guest Blogger: Bipolar Whispers

This Sister I follow, she’s the best yet…read on

Guest Blogger Post :

I was asked to write this post a while ago, but to be honest I had no idea where to start.  What topic I wanted to write on, and which direction it was going to head in.  So I am going to sit here and let my fingers type whatever it is that my heart and soul want to say.

I have bipolar disorder.  I was diagnosed just over 3 years ago after a 5 and a half week hospital stay.  Although I am fairly certain and my doctor is also fairly certain that I was undiagnosed for years before that.

Mental health issues have been a part of my life since I was around 12 or 13 years old.  But unfortunately I did not get help until after a suicide attempt when I was 18.

I have had numerous diagnoses over the years.  Some of them fit, but they never quite fit.  You know, it was kind of like when you fit a small circle inside a square.  It fits….but it does not fill the square to make it whole.

We knew I had depression, we knew I had some issues with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), we knew I had suicidal idealization and self-injurious tendencies, and we knew I had post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) but these were only part of the picture, these were the circle filling the square hole.

Bipolar was the one thing that finished filling the square and fit.  It was like someone shining a light down on the situation, finally.  The different parts of the cycle of bipolar disorder were all parts of my life.  In retrospect I could see them staring me in the face.

It felt like a weight had been lifted because finally everything was beginning to make sense.   Everything suddenly fell into place.  As I read and researched more about bipolar disorder I began to realize just how fitting this diagnosis was.

My diagnosis would change my life in some ways, but more importantly it would help make sense of a life already lived.

I could look back on decisions made, situations I would rather not relive, and manic excitement and understand just where it came from.  Instead of always wondering why I made the decisions I made, and always trying to make sense of situations that I had no control over.

And finally after years of bad decisions, misunderstood conversations, misconstrued situations, I had finally come full circle.

It may sound kind of strange to someone who has never been there, but my diagnosis of bipolar disorder made me finally feel like I was not crazy.  It put a name to all of the chaos that has been going on inside my brain, my life and my heart.

Not that labels really make a difference in life, but this label changed how I was able to manage my mental illness.  It helped not only myself but my doctor better manage what was going on with me through the right therapies and medications.

Bipolar disorder did not change my life in some ways, but in other ways bipolar disorder was the change that I needed in my life to get the most appropriate help.

Author’s Bio: Bipolar Whispers is a 33 year old mother of three. Married to the love of her life. She’s a mental health blogger who suffers from bipolar disorder, PTSD, OCD, and anxiety. Lover of butterflies. Risen out of the ashes like a phoenix. Survivor.
Author’s Website:
Author’s Twitter: @BipolarWhisper