My personal D-Day

On each D-Day, I celebrate another year of sobriety.

I’m Doug and I am an alcoholic. I’ve been sober for exactly 27 years on this June 6, 2021,

My first drink of alcohol came at age 15, more than 58 years ago — a glass of Cleophus Sowers moonshine (considered “Floyd County’s best shine”) given to me by a 27-year-old woman who wanted me to relax for some other adult-oriented activities that evening. By the time I graduated from Floyd County High School two years later, I drank regularly and continued to do so for about 30 more years.

On June 6, 1994, the 50th anniversary of the D-Day Invasion, an intervention arranged by my wife, Amy, and some caring friends, made me realize that it was time to quit and I went to my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. I haven’t had a drink since that date. I don’t even drink so-called “non-alcoholic beer” or use cough medicine that contains a touch of alcohol.

I lost the urge to drink several years ago but I quit smoking more than 45 years ago and still want a cigarette as badly now as I did then. Is Nicotine more addictive than booze? I wonder.

How long have I been sober? As I said, 27 years exactly. That’s 324 months or 1,404 weeks or 9,859 days (with Leap Years included) or 236,520 hours or 14,427,720 minutes or 865,553,200 seconds.

But those numbers fall short of my time as a drinker. That lasted 32 years, or 384 months, or 1,664 weeks, or 11,684 days, or 280,416 hours, or 16,827,960 minutes or 1,009,497,600 seconds.

Damn, I wasted a lot of time drinking.

Even so, all that time I have since spent sober is lost if I slip and take a drink. The beast of alcoholism is always back there, waiting for that slip.

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