I think of that chicken or the egg theory and which one came first. Was it the chicken or was it the egg?
In all honestly, I never really think of the chicken or the egg. At least, not exactly. More to the point, I think about this when it comes to situations in the mind.
I think about me and my own dilemmas. As far as I know, nobody ever asked to have bad things happen. They just happen. But if in some cases, there is a reason

 There was a conversation I had not long ago about my opinions regarding the problems we face as a society. What I mean by this is the epidemic we face.
I’m talking about addiction, alcoholism, and mental health, all in its entirety. A while back, I entered my opinion to which I was challenged to do one of two things: I was told to either put up or shut up.
I was told to stop talking. In not so many words I was told that if I don’t like what I see then I should do something about it. Otherwise, shut up because the world is already filled with too many opinions.

Something I realize now is that we teach other on a daily basis. We learn from each other every day. I swear this is true.
We learn what we accept and what we don’t. We learn what we appreciate and what we admire.
We teach other what to do and stay away from. This is how we learn. We watch each other.
We interact and we adapt. When it comes to new people, we learn about them. We learn about their qualities on both ends of the spectrum from benefit to deficit.

I spent decades trying to perfect my personality, only to realize that I was perfect all along.

I spent so long trying to find myself. I wanted to find my place in the crowd and find where I fit.

I remember when I was young. I was bedridden with a stomach problem that caused me to be hospitalized. Keep in mind, entertainment was different back then. This was before cable television made its way into my household. Back then, all we had was basic television and basic television shows.

 I see there is an issue with our interpretation, which is not to say that we are right or wrong. In fact, this is not to take a side at all.
All I’m saying is that we interpret information differently. You have your way and I have mine.
You and me, we have our way of doing things. And we have this for a reason. You have your way and I have mine because we come from a different background with a history of different experiences.
We come from different places and we’ve lived different lives. We also have different connections and different stimulation.
A word to me might be just a word, —but to you, that same word might mean something else.

There is a place in our mind where we store our memories. We keep our experiences here. We store opinions here.
This is where we keep our regrets. We keep our hopes here and our dreams. We also keep our doubts here and our insecurities. We keep our emotions and feelings here too. We log them away like old files and store them for reference in case a similar situation should arise.

I stayed up for a while to watch the snowfall last night. I love it like this. The house is quiet. I can hear the noise of the hot water as it moves through the radiators.
The snow-covered ground illuminates the dull gray sky. And it’s nighttime. Everyone is sleeping. The roads are mainly empty and the world is mostly quiet.
I love it this way because there are absolutely no intrusions. There is nothing but me, the quiet, and my own true self. I don’t have to think or say or do anything. All I have to do is look through the window to watch the snowfall.

The problem with having a habit is it’s a habit.
And that’s it.
The body already knows what to do without needing any input.

The problem with being habit-minded is you’re habit-minded. To be any other way becomes unthinkable. And that’s the problem. The mind simply cannot conceive it living any other way. Whether the habit is smoking; whether the habit is food, drinking, smoking, sex, or whether the habit is working too much, sleeping too much; whether the habit is an addiction to say, emotion, depression, codependency or if the habit is based on self-harm, cutting, or any compulsion, which delivers a moment of gratification but the satisfaction is only fleeting, when it comes to the habitual mind, it becomes unbelievable to consider that life could be lived any other way.

The hardest thing was to sit in a classroom and see everyone with their eyes on their paper, pencil swirling around from the tops of their hands as the other students wrote their answers—but me, even the so-called simple problems were far from simple.
Nothing was simple to me. I could never grasp the lessons. I had no understanding of what I was doing. I needed help but I never knew how to ask.
Besides, kids that needed help were seen as “Kids that needed help.” And me, I didn’t want to be that kid. I never wanted to be that kid. I never wanted to be pointed out because I was “Special,” or taken to a different classroom and segregated because I had a learning disability.