Welcome to the Cursed Campaign (a.k.a. About Me)

How I turned missing the rulebook into writing one.

I always suspected everyone else got a secret class called How To Human and I missed it. They learned the spells for Small Talk, Routine, and Making Phone Calls Without Sweating. I learned Overanalyze, Mask Till Migraine, and Stare Into Middle Distance like it was a career path.

Hi. I’m Jonia—nurse, veteran, mom, neurospicy DM, and the kind of chaotic good narrator who brings snacks to boss fights. I didn’t set out to build a world. I set out to survive one. Houses & Humans started as a joke about giving XP for doing the dishes… and then I realized that joke had teeth. Also claws. Also a very persuasive “what if this helped people like us?” energy.

What this is (and what it isn’t)

This is not a guru on a mountaintop. This is a tired adventurer with a backpack full of coping tools, dark humor, and duct tape. Houses & Humans is a game-journal—RPG bones with CBT muscle—where real life becomes the campaign:

• Monsters = the things gnawing on your brain (hello, Procrastidrake).

• Quests = small, doable actions that earn XP (yes, naps count).

• Loot = tools, worksheets, and ridiculous potions (Potion of Re-Roll, anyone?).

It’s not self-help. It’s self-survival with better fonts.

Who I am (and why I’m loud about it)

I’m autistic, ADHD, and allergic to pretending this is easy. I’ve worked in mental health long enough to know that “try harder” is not a treatment plan. Humor helps. Structure helps. Community helps. The point here isn’t perfection; it’s progress you can feel. It’s giving yourself permission to be messy, mad, and magical—and counting it.

What you’ll find here

• DM Ramblings: mildly unhinged essays from the dungeon floor.

• Behind the Grimoire: book updates, art peeks, process chaos.

• Coping Mechanics: tiny spells for tired brains (evidence-flavored, not lecture-flavored).

• Patch Notes for Real Life: what I’m changing, breaking, or fixing this week.

If you’ve ever thought, “I’m failing at easy mode,” welcome. You’re not. You’ve just been playing hardcore mode without the tutorial.

Why I built this (short answer: spiteful hope)

Because real monsters don’t care about your GPA or your email tone. Because bedtime shouldn’t feel like a boss fight. Because we deserve a rulebook that admits the map is weird, the weather is worse, and our party members are doing their best with low hit points and crunchy knees.

So I wrote one. And I’ll keep writing it, page by page, quest by quest—until the campaign feels a little less cursed.

How to join the party

1. Grab the book if you crave structure with jokes sharper than your scissors.

2. Take a quiz if you want your destiny roasted gently.

3. Read the ramblings if you need a companionable growl in the dark.

You don’t have to thrive today. Just respawn. Roll the dice. Take the smallest next quest. I’ll be here, lighting the candles, documenting the chaos, and handing out XP for the stuff that actually costs spoons.

Welcome to the campaign. You don’t have to roll for belonging—you already have advantage here.