When she reached 39, Cathleen Caffrey stumbled upon a pamphlet at her Alcoholics Anonymous gathering. It featured individuals who achieved sobriety in their 70s, sharing how “wonderful their lives had become. That provided me with hope that I held onto for a long duration,” she reflects. Caffrey celebrated her 80th birthday this year, having spent decades sober, yet it is only now that she feels at ease with who she is.
Throughout her life, Caffrey believed she was “a bad person, unlovable and unlikable.” After her parents divorced when she was 10, she recalls, “a voice within me whispered, ‘Nothing’s ever gonna work.’”
Growing up in California, she was intelligent in school but “very shy … I would read during breaks. Or I would engage in hopscotch alone.”
Post-university, she attempted graduate studies and detested it. She held various jobs – processing computer keypunch cards, acting as an administrative assistant, working in data processing, technical writing and editing, reviewing hospital databases for duplicates – but found it impossible to establish a career. “I simply did not know how to mingle and work as part of a team. I was trapped in a mindset that something was wrong with me. And I just couldn’t escape that.”
This pattern also manifested in her relationships. “I could never find a relationship that suited me.” They either ended quickly or became excessively intense – “another form of addiction … And it was incredibly painful to see those connections dissolve repeatedly,” she adds. “I spent years feeling like I bore a resemblance to the Elephant Man.”
Caffrey began drinking at 21, and it only gradually became an issue. She attended her first Alcoholics Anonymous session in her 30s and has “remained sober for 42 years,” but battled with depression for many years.
After retiring due to repetitive strain injuries in her mid-50s, she mentions, “I must have spent 10 or 12 hours each day lying on my back watching TV. “I would keep thinking, ‘I can’t accomplish anything.’”
Some members of Caffrey’s extended family had been identified with autism and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. When the Covid crisis struck, she found “an opportunity to reflect” and began to investigate online some of the emotions that had pervaded her life since childhood.
“One day, the term ‘autism’ stood out to me, and I discovered a vast array of videos showing individuals describing the challenges they faced as young children. Never feeling like they belonged or fitted in, struggling significantly to form friendships. And I thought, ‘Oh my God, this resonates with me. This describes me perfectly.’”
Caffrey is unable to pursue a formal diagnosis due to costs, but now considers herself autistic. Gaining insight into her identity has been revolutionary. “It was a tremendous relief to realize that what I had always thought was me being a bad person was merely a misunderstanding of how I interacted with others.”
Caffrey resides in a mobile home community for seniors in Santa Rosa, California, where there is a vibrant social scene. She participates in philosophy discussion groups and the occasional potluck dinner, while her rescue dog, Petunia, often approaches people with a wagging tail, which “greatly assists” in making connections. “I’m generally content and quietly happy much of the time now,” Caffrey states.
Upon turning 80 in July, her brother and his partner expressed a desire to host a celebration for her. “I thought, ‘Why not?’”
She invited individuals from her philosophy group and those she exchanges greetings with while walking Petunia. “And 60 people showed up! I would have estimated that the most anyone would come to a celebration for me would be 10 people. I was utterly astonished. It was the most incredible experience I’ve had,” she remarks. They all appeared genuinely pleased to see me.”
In her ninth decade, Caffrey has discovered fulfillment. “I no longer feel compelled by the pursuit of money, particular relationships, or recognition for accomplishments. I don’t feel as if I’m being urged by anything other than my own desire to feel good about my life, and to provide the best for my dog, my family, and myself. And that brings me a sense of tranquility.”
