Counting the Days: A Truce Between Sobriety and the Struggle

Only alcoholics count the days. Only alcoholics celebrate one day sober, one week sober, thirty days, six months, a year—and every year after. Most people mark birthdays, anniversaries, holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving. But for us, the calendar is measured in the space between drinks, in the victories—both small and hard-won—over the craving that once ruled us.

I remember hearing in the rooms: “You know you’re an alcoholic when you count your days sober.” That’s the true test. And I’ll admit it—I’m a fan of counting. If we’re going to broker a truce between our addiction and our recovery, we have to track our progress. We have to know how many days we’ve stayed sober—or how many we’ve slipped.

The photo at the top of this post? That’s a hand-drawn, poster-sized calendar I used to log 110 consecutive days of sobriety—without AA, without jail, without rehab. Was it easy? Absolutely not. This stretch ran from July 14th to Halloween, just last year. On the margins of that calendar, I scribbled notes—strategies, tools, lifelines—everything I’d deploy to keep myself from drinking.

In my book, I call this my “sober toolkit.” Here’s what’s in mine:

• Fun Fridays: Fridays are tough for me. Between 2 and 6 PM, when the itch for a drink is strongest, I treat myself to sushi, pizza, or a Frappuccino—something indulgent enough to trigger dopamine, to remind my body: You don’t need beer today.
• Friendly Wagers: My wife once bet me a few hundred bucks to stay sober. Money talks. If you need external motivation, find someone to hold you accountable—financially or otherwise.
• The Big Book: I don’t attend AA anymore, but I still read the Big Book for an hour every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. There’s wisdom there, even if the program isn’t your path.
• Mexican Coca-Cola: That glass bottle of real cane sugar. Crack one open when cravings hit. It’s not beer, but that first sip? Damn near close.
• Daily Prayer: My non-negotiable. Morning prayer sets the tone. (We’ll dive deeper into prayer in future posts—it’s a powerhouse.)

Here’s the heart of my truce: Take at least 100 consecutive days off per year. No alcohol, no drugs—nothing. (I don’t even take Sudafed.) Any alcoholic will tell you how hard that is without daily meetings. But I’ve done it—three years running. Two years ago, I hit 100 days exactly. Last year, 110. This year? Already at 105.

Your terms might differ. That’s the beauty of a truce—it’s your negotiation. Write it down. Shake hands with yourself. Will you break it? Probably. We’re drunks, not saints. But when you falter, you rebuild. You add new tools. You learn.

Counting days matters. Even in a truce, it’s your compass. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Every sober day is a step into that newness.

“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31). Let your sober days be proof of that strength.

God bless—and keep counting.

Please Like, Share, and Subscribe