You probably had some crazy ideas when you were younger. I believed the reason that some priests turned out to be paedophiles was that they repressed their desire to have sex with women.
Push a desire down far enough, and it will surface somewhere else only in an uglier form. The theory was simplistic and probably wrong. Even though I know better now, I still believe that when you repress an aspect of yourself in one area, it will resurface in another, only uglier.
You and I are victims of our genes. Impulses brought on by chemical reactions occurring within us. How in control of you are you?
I know that my body wants me to carry out certain actions. I have noticed recently that my mood is directly associated with the amount of writing that I do. If I write over seven hundred words, then I am in a good mood for the rest of the day. If I don’t, I slowly become lethargic and despondent.
I wish I had known about my need to write sooner it could have helped me out in general, in life. I blamed other factors in my life such as my relationships and my job for being depressed. The problem was not them, it was me. I was repressing my natural desire to write.
That desire would manifest itself in harmful ways I would post regularly on social media, and I would message people who I was not supposed to message. Even though I pushed down my urge to write my body found a way to trick my brain into getting words out of my system.
I was a gene denier.
Gene deniers like the suppressive priest find a way to manifest their desires. For example first world feminists.
First world feminist believes the heterosexual nuclear family is a conspiracy concocted by men. It is a means of keeping women in the form of perpetual slavery. First world feminists have decided to take themselves out of the genetic race. Not all, but many are suppressing their maternal instinct.
While they may have opted out of motherhood and family life look at how they spend their time. First world feminists have become a group dedicated to telling boys not to play rough, sit knees together and in general not have too much fun.
First world feminists deny themselves the motherhood they subconsciously crave. They want to be a mother so much that they have elected themselves societal mothers. Telling men, the sons, to not over enjoy ourselves.
Like the Red Queen from Alice and Wonderland the faster you run, the more you stay in the same place.
No matter where you go, there you are.
There is slavery only it isn’t patriarchy. Our master is our genetics, our DNA. A dog on a lead knows that it can enjoy walkies more if it obeys the one who holds the reins.
Can you hear yourself now?
Immature, bipolar, autistic, ADHD and manchild. These are some of the words that friends, family, and partners have used to describe me. Sometimes I have even been described negatively.
I’m lazy, but I have been told, since school that if I were to apply myself, then I may achieve something with my life. On one hand, the achieving sounds good, but I’m not sure about the making the effort part.
The laziness has led to a few hiccups in my life, the big one being that it has not ended up the way that I wanted it to.
As I got older, I would find myself falling into repeated patterns of behaviour. I would realise that I hadn’t achieved what I wanted to so I would stress out and then try and do everything at once.
Trying to do everything at once would lead to me feeling overwhelmed and then give up. I would then take a couple of days doing nothing, vegging out eating poorly, playing video games.
After I had played all the video games that I could the panic would start in again, and the cycle would repeat.
Panicking, crashing and burning may work for some people but it was not working for me. I decided to listen to my body and what it wanted to do. I am compelled to write, I know that deep down it is one of the things that I do best.
I love the act of taking my thoughts and doing the best that I can to translate them to the page in the form of ink and paper. The lazy part of my brain kept telling me to put it off.
My brain would tell me not to bother listening to the part of me that wanted to write.
My brain was smart in that it told me that I shouldn’t bother writing because the quality would never be good. For years I had listened to that voice and lost momentum. The loss of momentum hurt me because I stopped trying. I got comfortable, lazy and my career came to a halt.
Last year I started keeping track of how food affects my moods. I found that bread made me irritable and rice made me sleepy. Eggs gave me energy and coffee made me a pain in the hole to everyone in a five-mile radius. I took the advice of Scott Adams.
I measured my energy levels. Not scientific by any means. I monitored how certain activities made me feel. I noticed that on days I was in a great mood was banner writing days.
Scott Adams said that your body is your brain. Which came first chicken or the egg did the good mood come first or did the writing. I could trick my body into a good mood by socializing.
My body wanted me to write, relieve the tension of carrying words within me. I’ve started writing a page every day, and it has a calming meditative effect on me. Listening to my body obeying it leads to a healthier happier Kieran.
Listen to your body.
You think that you’re brain does everything, but it’s only 50%. Your body will guide you listen to what it has to say.
On some level you are aware of what your body wants to do, run, draw, sing, do the math and socialise. Deep in your body you know.
If you feel lost if you feel like you don’t know, think back to what you loved to do when you were a kid.
My early memory of mine is standing on a stage in Portaferry singing Michael Jackson’s Bad. I want to be a performer, I want to write my own scripts and perform in their productions.
I only started listening recently.
It’s time for you to listen to your body.