Doom’s job as a stagehand often requires several consecutive 15-hour workdays with an ever-shifting schedule. “This leads to lots of stress and uncertainty. I already have had problems with stress and depression when I was in school, so I have learned some ways to help me cope with it.” And Doom has structured his life to help ward off procrastination and escapism. “By design, my workshop is in the basement, and I usually stay up on the second floor. So when I am feeling lazy or down in the dumps I have to walk up two flights of stairs to work. Getting up every hour to actually do something really throws a wrench in my urge to procrastinate.”
But then why take on such a frustrating hobby? Doom describes casting as having had a “phenomenal” effect on his life. “Nothing feels better than looking at something and thinking ‘Wow, I can’t believe I made that!'” he explains. I agree, but I feel like there’s more to the story.
I prod him again about the value of an escapist hobby. “You need to have something to be excited about” he says.
This statement illuminates something I knew about Doom. Early in 2015, Doom lost a close friend to cancer. He met the late friend’s widower one night at a diner. Both Doom and the widower were deeply depressed. For a long time, they ate in silence and made even more depressing small talk. Doom asked the widower if he had any hobbies. His eyes lifted a bit, “Gunsmithing, actually. I’m trying to figure out how to cast resin parts for my projects.” Doom grew excited and showed the widower pictures of his casts. The widower perked up, and the two whiled away the night talking about their hobby. I like to think that in that diner—even if just for a moment—the widower finally had something to be excited about.
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