Whenever I feel the need to defend myself and my book buying habit, I chirp "I could always have a worse addiction." Now obviously this is very true but if I really examine the problem, it is indeed a problem. I use books and the buying of them to combat depression. I buy books all the time, a few (or more than a few) every month but when I am feeling really down, I do a retail therapy blowout at whatever bookstore happens to be the closest. And I haven't been Suzy Sunshine lately so my library has grown by leaps and bounds. 30 minutes in the bookstore equalled about $150 less in the checking account. This is not a good thing. And my husband will be horrified although he knows me well enough by now that he probably knows a whopper of a book bill is about to land in his lap given my attitude lately.
Worse, when I am depressed, I read far less than usual so the library grows by leaps and bounds with no hope of me actually making a dent in the obscenely large tbr pile. I think I keep buying in hopes that I will find something that catches my attention and diverts it from whatever other stuff is making me feel like Eyeore. But I am a slow learner so no matter how much I intellectually know that buying the books won't fix things, I do it anyway. Pure-D definition of an addiction, right? I guess I'll have to cling to the belief that it's a good thing that I'm only addicted to books and not something that could potentially kill me (well, unless an overloaded bookshelf falls on me). And I will eventually work my way out of my depression and low-grade discontent and then I'll be glad I have the much expanded tbr stacks from which to pull the next read.