Cadillac Problems

I once heard someone in recovery say “I have problems now in areas where I didn’t used to have areas.”

Recovery gives us our lives back. We come in because we’re experiencing and/or finally recognizing the consequences of our addiction. The problems in our lives are largely because of...or at least exacerbated by...our drinking and using.

A struggling alcoholic friend says “At first, drinking was fun. Then it was fun with consequences. Now it’s just consequences.” His consequences create a vicious cycle of avoidance, denial and procrastination, which ultimately leads him to more drinking. He is, as the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous says “restless, irritable and discontented until he can experience the sense of ease and comfort which comes at once by taking a few drinks”.

That was me. That constant state, unless I was drinking, of restlessness, irritability and discontent. Either I was drinking, thinking about drinking or cleaning up the problems caused by my drinking. I procrastinated everything, I missed appointments, I jeopardized my job, I blew off my friends, I worried my family, I hurt my husband, I ignored my health, I endangered my safety, I spent money recklessly and I got into trouble with the law. Problems piled on top of problems.

But I’m one of the lucky ones. Somehow I recognized that my problems were often a result of my drinking and I decided to “take a break”. I didn’t crash a car or go to jail or try to kill myself. I didn’t go to treatment or rehab or detox. But I went to an A.A. meeting. And then another one. And I still go, almost every day. I’m passionate about my recovery and committed to working with others and passing on the gifts of the program. I give freely of what A.A. has given me by sponsoring others, helping newcomers, facilitating meetings and speaking whenever I’m asked. And I’m fortunate enough to be working in the field of recovery.

So back to Cadillac problems. That’s how we refer to challenges that would seem ridiculous to the many people who have far less. “My car needs repairs.” “My roof needs replacing.” “My hard drive crashed.” “My washing machine broke.” “My flight was delayed.” “My cell phone died.”

You don’t have to look very far to find someone whose problems make yours insignificant. Just read the paper or watch the news. Work in a soup kitchen or volunteer in a cancer ward. Walk through a city...or travel to a third world country. And then make a gratitude list.

My dad died a couple of months ago. That’s why there hasn’t been a blog entry here for a while. I was fortunate enough to spend much of the last year with him and was overwhelmed by his positive attitude and his strong faith. He had no regrets and no fear. He embraced death the way he embraced life: with anticipation, enthusiasm and gratitude. I’ll always be thankful for what he showed me. Before Dad died he gave me his brand new car...and it came with a whole set of problems. I had to insure it. I had to drive it from Chicago to Connecticut. I had to put in a claim for some damage he managed to do on one of the three days he drove it. I had to get estimates, wait for repairs and pay the deductible. And I still have to sell my “other” car.

Poor me, right? It might not be a Cadillac...but these are classic Cadillac problems. And if I don’t remind myself of that, I’m entitled, ungrateful and oblivious to what the rest of the world suffers. I have a roof over my head. Clothes to wear and a machine to wash them in. Electronic devices that make my already comfortable life even easier. A job that requires a lot of travel but affords me many opportunities. And for the time being, two cars. My list of problems can always be flipped into a gratitude list.

After we buried my dad and I drove the car home I was fortunate enough to enjoy a brief vacation. While we were there we took a scenic boat trip to a beautiful island and as I disembarked I jumped, barefoot, onto rock-hard sand...and broke my foot.

So here’s the gratitude list:

Someone was there to help me.

It was the last day of vacation.

I have health insurance.

It’s a minor fracture.

It’s my left foot.

And finally, when I got home and was fitted with crutches, there was a second car sitting in my driveway...with a handicapped tag dangling prominently from the rear-view mirror.

Thanks Dad.