You aren’t the stuff you own. When you get a lot of it, it’s called clutter for a reason. You acquire a responsibility to maintain it all. You need very little of it, like those ridiculous kitchen gadgets selling you the image of domestic perfection.
The last time you looked in a zoo, how happy were those animals? You’re trapped too. You’re in an invisible prison that resembles a department store. That is your world, your habitat. That stuff you buy? The plastic trinkets shipped worldwide? It gets made because it gets sold. If people like you stopped buying up such crap, they would stop making it.
The only thing you need lots of is security. For most people, this means money. Pretty much everything else can go to hell and you wouldn’t notice. So why spend your money on useless tat? They’re laughing at you. You’re going about buying happiness, but the wrong way. It’s the illusion of happiness, a rush of adrenaline, and buyer’s remorse. That is your addiction.
My current prison is academia. The point is, I choose it. I choose the subject, I write the essays and lab reports, I get credit. I even get paid. It’s like a job, only with prestige and an identity. And some freedom. I can go after more in life after I’ve become bored with it. It creates opportunities, the only true key to true happiness. Knowledge is power. I’m building up my reserves, and will do for the rest of my life. That’s why the rich have libraries. It’s to show how much power they have. A manifestation of what they hope you think their brain is filled with. You can tell the most about a person by the books they read.
If you have money, it is the currency of opportunities. You can buy whatever identity and life you decide to go for. That’s why money can buy happiness. Because money buys anything. Little gizmos you can’t justify aren’t happiness, they’re cheap thrills. Like fast food to a home-cooked meal. You’re just too lazy or inept to cook.