I wrote last week how my wife and I had to say goodbye to Clementine. Without going into detail, caring for our sick cat took a lot out of us. Since last summer, Clem needed some kind of daily medical care: ear drops, pills, special food, eye lube. Yes, eye lube. We wanted to help her get better. We only learned in November that she had cancer and only learned in January that there was nothing we could do.
A few years ago, a member of my family was diagnosed with terminal cancer. My wife was one of the primary caregivers, and I supported where I could. Taking care of Clementine brought up a lot of those memories.
The thing about taking care of a loved one while they die is that you still have to live your life. You have to go to work, and pay your bills, and clean your toilet, and everything else. And it sucks, because you want to spend all your time with your loved one. But spending time with them can also be difficult. It’s a lot. Clem liked to spend her days with me in my home office while I was working. Near the end and now afterward, my work days carry an extra burden. It’s been a tough year. (“Captain, it’s February!”)
At the end of my day, after taking care of my responsibilities, I was left with time but no energy. I know what depression feels like and I now notice when it starts creeping in. And I have skills to forestall it.
So. Last month. After playing Hades II for so long that my thumbs hurt as much as my heart, I was doomscrolling. I came across some discussion about 3D printing. Something in my brain shifted. I felt it, like it was some physical mechanism. “Huh. 3D printing. Hmm.”
I had been thinking of getting a 3D printer, off and on, since we bought our house. Usually, I’d let it go. I had other responsibilities and other interests that were taking up my time. But not lately. Lately, I’ve had time but not any interest. So when I felt that spark, I encouraged myself to follow it.
Sometimes it’s okay to impulse buy something to make yourself feel better. When the excitement of diving into a new hobby is the only joy you can remember feeling. When you’re actually glad that the thing is backordered because it means you’ll have something (anything) to look forward to for a bit longer. When you do want to keep looking forward, even as you also want time to slow down.
My wife and I have spent the last few weeks learning about 3D printers together, sharing models we want to print, and preparing a workspace for the printer. We’ve lived in the house for over four years now, which is longer than we’ve ever lived in a space. Preparing for the printer led to spring cleaning our basement, something we’ve been meaning to do. So we’ve built up some momentum, doing things, taking care of ourselves and our space and each other.
The printer should arrive this week. I’m excited. It feels good, to be excited. I’m cautious, too: I’ve learned the hard way how unwise it can be to hitch my mental wellbeing to the acquisition of things. But I’ve also learned how and when to work with my inclinations.