/lit/ - Literature

Since my dad left, I've been stuck with my mom in the uncomfortable position of "man of the house", therefore responsible for little repairs, strenuous tasks, and having the initiative to make things right.
I just can't though, I lack the tools, the strength, the know-how, the SPIRIT.
I'm plagued with daily realizations of things deteriorating all around me: an invasive shrub I should deal with growing ever taller, the weeds taking over the garden beds (abandoned a long time ago), the windows and cupboard doors that don't close properly. I just try my best to ignore all of it and go about my day.
Now and then, we call a professional to take care of things, and I feel a deep shame waking up to the sound of their work, greeting them in my pajamas as they do something that I should do, or at the very least I should be able to do. The whole situation makes me feel less than a man.
There was a time in my life when I would tinker with hot glue and electric motors, but I dropped all of it in favor of becoming an artist.
And a good artist I became. I make decent money and can pay to get all these things done. Yet, doing so still feels wrong, like I'm tricking time, avoiding my duties somehow...
I fantasize about living in a house made of stone, one that could survive for a thousand years after I'm done, just so I don't have to deal with entropy and the challenges it places in my way.
Does anyone else feel the same or am I just fucked in the head?