A1.
This is part of the #Dungeon23 challenge in which you make one room to a dungeon every day for a year. In an effort to link my memories to the creation, I am also writing a personal journal entry with each room that may or may not be related.
You don’t have to read that part.
A1.
Outside the cave entrance you find the body of a horse. Its mangled corpse is still attached to a cart.
Inside the cave you see signs of a small camp. Four bedrolls surround the ashes of a dead fire. Their owner’s belongings lay close - backpacks, waterskins, a bow with several poorly carved arrows.
By one bedroll there is weathered book of ornithology, filled with many intricately drawn diagrams of birds. In the cover there is an inscription.
“For Ulnick
Don’t forget to look up from the road.
And should you look behind, perhaps you’ll see me there.
Love, Akina”
A small cask of ale sits open near the fire pit. It has been branded with the royal seal and is only half full. It would normally carry 5 liters.
Four crates sit along the cave wall. Inside are bottles of wine and spirits of high quality. Each crate has a paper receipt notating its contents. This was meant for the Royals.
Around a corner you hear the faint whistling of wind. A boulder has been leveraged by two long poles to uncover a passage. As you approach you feel cool air tickle your face and it is accompanied with the earthy smell of decay.
What lies further inside is anyone’s guess, but this whole scene carries with it unease.
1/1/23
I quit drinking on this day one year ago.
I don’t tell people I’m an alcoholic for two reasons.
1. I don’t like talking to people about my personal shit.
2. I don’t think I’m an alcoholic.
Both of those reasons make writing this journal particularly tough, but this project is about building a mega dungeon that is linked to whatever was on my mind at the time.
And even though I don’t think I’m an alcoholic, drinking is never far from my mind.
So here we are.
The truth is drinking feels like it’s apart of my identity. I don’t think other people necessarily make this connection, but the person I am when I’m drinking is the person they enjoy being with. Which is to say I feel more comfortable around people when I’m inebriated than when I’m sober. Yes that’s me projecting my social anxieties on other people. But just because you know the tricks you play on yourself doesn’t mean you can’t be fooled.
The problem I discovered with socializing while sober, is so much of the socialization ritual involves drinking.
Wine and beer is offered. If you decline, it’s always met with an “Are you sure?” And even though you will decline a second time, because you’re committed, baby, you will need to be ready to decline several more times throughout the evening.
“Are you sure I can’t get you something? Just a little something? Are you sure?”
But you don’t want to say “Hey I think my relationship with alcohol is fucked, and I’m trying to get my shit together” because that’s super awkward.
Like super awkward.
But if you don’t say that, then everyone thinks it’s just a trend, like a diet, and you’ll come back around eventually, and they’ll be totally “here for it.”
And that’s how you get trapped into drinking again.
Thankfully Gail knew the score and backed me up. She always does.
Being the only sober person in the room sucks. It does. You can’t tell me different. I’ve met those guys who are all “I like being sober and watching everyone else make fools of themselves. It’s funny.” Those guys were lame as hell.
And it’s not fun.
It’s lonely.
But I didn’t just drink to socialize, did I?
No. I drank alone too. I drank way more alone. I drank to slow my mind down, because I think all the time, and sometimes it feels like I think too fast and too much, and it drives me crazy. And drinking slowed it all down. It was absolutely a relief. It was so relieving that I could just keep on drinking until I passed out and couldn’t remember what happened the night before. And not remembering felt better than remembering and now we’re getting somewhere.
Now we’re rolling the bolder out of the way and seeing what’s in the dark tunnel behind.
So what comes next?
No idea. I guess we’ll just take it as it comes. But I can’t imagine all of these journal entries being this serious. But we’re casting a spell here, right? And sometimes magic calls for fun shit like unicorn farts, and sometimes it calls for something you don’t want to give.
And now that I’ve given that, I feel relieved. To tell you the truth I feel pretty happy actually. And a little embarrassed. Embarrassed that this subject takes up so much of my thinking. 2022 was so much more than me being sober. It was so much better than that.
Gail and I started Out of Depth, and we’re making cool shit that I think is filling the void that alcohol never filled. We’ve decided to move closer to family, and continue building the life we’ve always wanted. Being sober was only a small part of that, and I should remember that. My life is way more than my problems or failures. There’s a lot to be thankful for, and I should always remember that.
Hey, I think this journal is already paying off.
See you tomorrow.
-Jae
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