I'm trying not to buy the things in my previous post. Trying to go through my closet and assess what I *need,* not just want.

But it's so hard to turn off the want. I'm so intrigued by the possibilities of what I see! Do I have an emotional complex or something?! Did my mother not love me enough? Am I trying to fill an endless pit of unfulfilled ambition with... things? Am I so trivial and shallow that I must constantly be stimulated by "new"? It's like I'm Madame Bovary online!

Any insights?