Mind-Fried: How Junk Food Is Cooking Your Brain
Why That Sausage Roll Might Be Rewiring Your Brain for a One-Way Trip to Forgetfulness.
Last weekend I caught my neighbour mid-rant, waving a biscuit at the TV as if it had personally offended him. He was to be fair, half-listening to a segment about dementia prevention while simultaneously balancing a bourbon cream, a Werther’s Original and the firm belief that diet has nothing to do with the brain.
“This is nonsense,” he declared. “Your memory goes because you’re old, not because you had too many Bakewell tarts.”
Charming… From the same man who once thought Alexa was the new cleaner.
Now, I’ve seen a relative up close and what dementia did to them. It doesn’t just borrow your memory; it storms in, rearranges the furniture in your head and then sets fire to your personality for good measure. Watching a loved one become a stranger in slow motion is as gut-wrenching as it is maddening. So when I hear that diet can delay or even prevent this brain-thieving disease, my reaction isn’t to scoff; it’s to scream “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PUT DOWN THE DONUT!”
Because the inconvenient truth is, your brain, much like a car engine, won’t thank you if you keep topping it up with bacon fat and fizzy drinks. Treating your body like a bin and then expecting it to run like a Tesla is the adult equivalent of watering a houseplant with Red Bull and wondering why it dies.
The MIND diet, which sounds like something Gwyneth Paltrow might sell for £700 alongside a candle that smells like a urinal, is actually backed by science. It’s a glorified Mediterranean plan, minus the salt and plus some leafy greens. Essentially, it’s eating like your life depends on it… because it actually does.
We’re talking nuts, berries, beans, olive oil, wholegrains and fish. Not Pop-Tarts, processed cheese or things that have been deep-fried so aggressively they now have the nutritional value of a brick. It’s sensible. Boringly sensible. Which is probably why no one’s doing it.
In the POINTER study, over 2,000 people aged 60 to 79 were given this brain-boosting plan and guess what? After two years their memories were actually better. They remembered things. Like where they parked. Or why they walked into the kitchen. One bloke even recalled his wedding anniversary, which led to a minor medical emergency for his wife.
Less than 4% of participants dropped out, which is extraordinary, given people will usually abandon anything that doesn’t involve wine, chips or TikTok influencers pretending bananas cure cancer.
It’s not rocket science. It’s not even GCSE science. Yet here we are, in 2025 still pretending our brains will be fine as long as we occasionally eat a salad drowned in Caesar dressing and go for a gentle wobble around the garden once a fortnight.
I don’t want to sound harsh, but if you treat your body like a landfill site for processed meat and supermarket pastries, you can’t act surprised when the wiring upstairs starts short-circuiting. You wouldn’t pour Coca-Cola into your car’s petrol tank and expect it to run. So why are you doing that to your own head?
Doctors are practically begging us now, move more, eat better, think sharper. But most of us would rather play Russian roulette with a pepperoni pizza and pretend dementia is just something that happens to other people. You know, the ones who forget their pin numbers and leave the oven on. Not us. Never us.
Well, guess what? It is us. It’s coming for us unless we do something. Now.
Which brings me to the recurring truth we all need tattooed on our fridge! Your brain is not immortal. It doesn’t come with a warranty. But it does respond to what you shovel into your face. Adults, grown, tax-paying adults, need to stop eating like unsupervised toddlers at a buffet.
You want to keep your mind? Then start using it. Shop like you love yourself. Eat like your future depends on it. Because no one wants to spend their final years confusing the toaster for a cat.
So the next time you reach for a sausage roll instead of a salad, just ask yourself; is this worth a decade of drooling into a bib while your grandkids explain who they are?
Didn’t think so.
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Chris Geiger, Author of The Cancer Survivors Club.
Daily Dose of Disbelief!
Bsky: @chrisgeiger.com
Bsky: @thecancersurvivorsclub.com
Bsky: @dailydoseofdisbelief.com
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