,
if I tell you I was sexually abused or the child of alcoholics, if I tell you I returned from back-to-back tours of Iraq and started to self-medicate wouldn’t that all just be a massive simplification of the complexity of just being a human fucking person?
DOCTOR: Were you?
EMMA: Was I what?
DOCTOR: Sexually abused.
EMMA: That’s / not
DOCTOR: because we’ll also have to do a full sexual / history.
EMMA: You’re not listening to what I’m
,
EMMA sighs.
I first got drunk with my brother when I was eleven and he was ten. I stole three bottles of Communion wine and when I vomited it looked like blood. Is this the kind of thing you want to hear?
DOCTOR: Is it the truth?
EMMA: No. I never had a brother.
And he didn’t die in front of children. He died in his car. Or he was stillborn maybe. Or he grew up and died of old age.
DOCTOR: Do you lie to protect yourself or your addiction?
EMMA: It’s not lying. It’s admitting there’s no truth to begin with. Have you read Foucault?
DOCTOR: Not lately.
EMMA: Or Derrida? Baudrillard? Barthes?
DOCTOR: When did you start using, Emma?
EMMA: I can’t base my survival on slogans and abstractions and vagueness. I’m not someone who can do pilates on a beach and mistake relaxation for spirituality. I spent a year in the Far East but I didn’t find enlightenment, I found slums and sex tourism. I need something solid. Concrete.
I chose this place because it’s ugly and grey and in the middle of a car park and I can look out on traffic and homeless people and remind myself that the world is just purposeless chaos. I need something definitive. I need to be fixed.
DOCTOR: It doesn’t work like that. It’s a long-term, / daily
EMMA: I don’t do long-term.
DOCTOR: You’re going to learn. Because the strategies you’ve been using just aren’t working. I hear all your concerns about the programme. I’ve heard them all before. If someone offers a better system and backs it up with verifiable evidence then I will be the first to celebrate. But right now it’s the best we’ve got. You think you’ve worked it all out, great, you’re still dying. Intellectually inferior as I may be, I’m trying to save your life. Now, sit down.
,
EMMA sits.
,
The Twelve Steps outline the process of recovery as experienced by its earliest members and, yes, they were about accepting God. But here we use a modified version with religiously neutral wording.
Have you heard the expression ‘powerless over nouns’?
EMMA: Nouns? As in
DOCTOR: people, places and things.
EMMA: You mean like Facebook?
DOCTOR: Excuse me?
EMMA: On Facebook the search box / says
DOCTOR: I’m not on Facebook.
EMMA: No.
No nor am I really. I have a profile but I hardly ever
DOCTOR: it’s a rewrite of Step One of Twelve. Instead of declaring ourselves powerless over alcohol or drugs we admit that we are powerless over people, places and things. People who make us want to relapse, places we associate with using and things that reactivate old behaviour. Does this make sense to you?
,
EMMA: Yes.
DOCTOR: When you’re in recovery,
EMMA: back in the real world.
DOCTOR: You’ll need to find a way to handle being in those places. With those people.
EMMA: And those things.
,
I find reality pretty difficult.
I find the business of getting out of bed and getting on with the day really hard. I find picking up my phone to be a mammoth fucking struggle. The number on my inbox. The friends who won’t see me anymore. The food pictures and porn videos, the bombings and beheadings, the moral ambivalence you have to have to just be able to carry on with your day. I find the knowledge that we’re all just atoms and one day we’ll stop and be dirt in the ground, I find that overwhelmingly
disappointing.
And I wish I could feel otherwise. I wish I could be like you. Or my mother. To feel that some things are predetermined and meaningful and that we’re somewhere on a track between the start and finish lines. But I can’t because I care about what’s true, what’s actually, verifiably true. You’re able to forfeit rationality for a comforting untruth so how are you supposed to help me? You’re looking at the world through such a tight filter you’re barely living in it. You’re barely alive.
DOCTOR: You talk about your mother a lot.
EMMA: Drugs and alcohol have never let me down. They have always loved me. There are substances I can put into my bloodstream that make the world perfect. That is the only absolute truth in the universe.
I’m being difficult because you want to take it away from me. So
sorry.
DOCTOR: If we don’t bond with people, particularly parents, we seek a connection elsewhere. Drugs. Alcohol.
EMMA: God.
Mark, my brother, he believed in God. He wasn’t as bright as me. He didn’t really stretch himself. He once told me that he believed the entire universe was happening in his imagination and that when he died everything would be snuffed out. But then he died and everything carried on, so
that’s that hypothesis disproved.
DOCTOR: I can’t force you to stay. I can’t force you to be truthful. I can just tell you that the process only works if you are honest. With yourself, with me and with others. Denial. Denial is what kills you.
EMMA: I’m not good in groups.
DOCTOR: I can believe that.
A GROUP of people sit down in a circle of chairs.
You’ve already come so far Emma. Don’t let that be for nothing. I’d like you to see how the programme works in practise. Meet the Group and my colleague, Lydia.
EMMA: Who’s Lydia?
The DOCTOR holds out her hand for EMMA to shake. She is now the THERAPIST and they are in the Group therapy room.
THERAPIST: Hi. I’m Lydia, I’m one of the therapists here.
EMMA: God, you all look like my mother.
THERAPIST: Why don’t you introduce yourself?
EMMA stands at the edge of the room. She looks at the room full of people. The GROUP looks at her.
EMMA: Er, okay. Hello everyone. I’m
She looks at the THERAPIST.
Emma.
GROUP: Hello Emma.
THERAPIST: Take a seat.
EMMA: I’m alright here.
THERAPIST: Emma, we’re all in recovery. You can say whatever you like here. You’re safe.
EMMA: You’re not in recovery.
She points at FOSTER.
He’s not in recovery.
FOSTER: Seven years.
THERAPIST: Twenty-one.
A little smattering of applause from the GROUP.
EMMA: You’re kidding.
THERAPIST: We’re all here for the same reason.
EMMA looks around the room.
EMMA: Look, no offense to anyone or the process but I’m sort of private.
THERAPIST: Gotcha.
EMMA: Just want to keep my head down and do my time.
THERAPIST: You’re a lone wolf.
EMMA: Exactly.
THERAPIST: Who else here is a lone wolf?
Everyone in the GROUP puts their hands up.
Take a seat Emma.
,
EMMA sits with the GROUP.
Why don’t you tell us about yourself?
EMMA: Seriously? I have to just jump straight in?
THERAPIST: This is a safe space. Tell us your story.
The reception bell sounds. FOSTER exits.
EMMA: Alright, fine, fuck it. Where should I start?
,
I suppose it all started when I was much younger and met this guy. I bet that’s how a few of these stories sta
rt, right ladies?
She’s trying to be funny but is failing.
Anyway. I was in a relationship with this guy. Norwegian guy. Older. Writer. He was really talented but never really lived up to it because, well, he was an alcoholic.
Some nods of recognition and sounds of encouragement from the GROUP.
Anyway. That ended. Predictably. And I met someone else. A much more solid, reliable, nice guy. George. An academic. I now know, I think I knew at the time really, that I wasn’t in love with him. We got married.
She is absent-mindedly playing with her ring finger. There is no ring.
Anyway. We had some money troubles. George went for a professorship at
MARK, a member of the GROUP, has his hand up.
MARK: excuse me, sorry,
THERAPIST: let her talk, Mark.
MARK Okay but
THERAPIST: Mark.
EMMA: Anyway, things were sort of fine, in a way, but, small world, an old school friend, Thea, started seeing my ex. The writer.
MARK: Okay, sorry, but this is
THERAPIST: please, / Mark.
EMMA: Is he allowed to just interrupt like / that?
THERAPIST: Go ahead Emma.
,
EMMA: Well. So, things came to a head when the manuscript of my ex’s new work just went missing.
MARK stands.
MARK: Alright, enough, / this is stupid, this is
A frisson of activity in the GROUP.
THERAPIST: Mark, sit down and / let her speak.
EMMA: Yeah, sit down and let me finish Mark.
Suddenly, the door opens and PAUL enters, urgently. He is much less wild than before. He is followed by FOSTER.
PAUL: I’d like to say something to the / Group please.
FOSTER: Paul, don’t do this, come on.
Everyone stays still and looks at PAUL.
PAUL: I’d just like to speak briefly to the Group / if I may.
THERAPIST: Mr Waverley I’m sorry but you have to leave / now.
PAUL: I will I promise, but, please, please let me just / say a few words.
PAUL takes a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it.
THERAPIST: Your treatment has been terminated, you can’t / be in here.
PAUL reads from the paper.
PAUL: I want to apologise to you all with my whole heart.
FOSTER puts his hand on PAUL’s arm.
FOSTER: Mr Waverley, please.
THERAPIST: It’s okay.
Go ahead Paul.
,
PAUL clears his throat and prepares himself.
PAUL: I know that my behaviour here was stupid and dangerous. Not only to myself but, also, as a trigger for others’ relapse. I smuggled in some substances. Ketamine. It was a breach of my agreement and resulted in my ejection. But
He lowers the paper. This is very hard from him.
I don’t like begging. I was making progress here. I was doing well. Please.
He kneels down.
THERAPIST: Paul.
PAUL: Please give me a second chance.
THERAPIST: Paul,
He reads from the paper again.
PAUL: I believe I have extenuating circumstances. I wouldn’t have used if what happened
if what happened
hadn’t happened. I just really wanted it all to stop.
EMMA whispers into the ear of the person next to her.
EMMA: What happened?
The person ignores her.
THERAPIST: Emma it’s best that we don’t talk amongst ourselves, if you have a question you can / ask the
EMMA: what circumstances? What happened?
An awkward silence. A couple of people look around the room or shift in their seats.
,
PAUL: Robert.
My partner,
fiancé
of eighteen years.
Dead.
Heroin.
We didn’t do needles. I don’t know where he got it.
I can’t go home again. It’s not real. I don’t want to die. I want it all to stop. I’ve got these voices and they’re scaring me. I just want it to
stop.
EMMA: You should stay.
THERAPIST: Emma.
EMMA: He should.
THERAPIST: Emma there are strict rules / about
EMMA: fuck that. He’ll die. Or kill someone.
PAUL: I don’t / think I’d
THERAPIST: this has to be a drug-free / environment,
FOSTER: Paul can come back once the / current group has
EMMA puts her hand in the air.
EMMA: who here thinks he should stay?
THERAPIST: Emma, this isn’t a democracy, / you can’t just
EMMA: you wanted me to join the Group well I have, I’m in the sacred circle of truth and this guy seems like one of our people. Now who thinks he should stay and get well and who thinks he should be sent to his death?
FOSTER: That’s unfair / wording.
EMMA: That’s the reality of the fucking situation. Put your hands up if you want him gone.
Some hands go up.
And who wants to save his life?
More hands go up.
EMMA turns triumphantly to the THERAPIST.
THERAPIST: Emma, I’m sorry but that’s simply not how / we work.
PAUL walks towards EMMA.
EMMA: It’s ridiculous, he’s
PAUL spits in EMMA’s face.
MARK: no!
MARK gets between PAUL and EMMA. The GROUP move out of their seats, either away or towards the fracas. FOSTER radios for SECURITY.
PAUL: This isn’t safari. It’s not character building. Don’t scrabble in the dirt with us poor cunts then put on smart shoes.
FOSTER: Security please come to group. Security to group, thank you.
MARK: You’re talking shit mate.
THERAPIST: Thank you Mark, / if everyone could
PAUL: little princess fuck off to Goa. Fuck off up a yoga mountain with magic / crystals.
EMMA: You don’t / know me.
PAUL: Fuck off to paradise you / prim prig.
THERAPIST: Okay that’s it. Enough.
EMMA: No, he’s alright. What else do you want to say Paul?
THERAPIST: Emma.
PAUL: I don’t owe you. I’m not in your debt.
EMMA: Thank you for making that clear. I don’t want to be your friend. I just want to get well and go home. Yes, I could have gone somewhere else but I chose not to. I don’t think I’m better than anyone. I think we’re all the same. I’m sorry your fiancé died. My brother died too. The week before I came here. Pills. I found him in the stairwell of our building curled into a ball. He’d cried blood. I wish I’d died instead. I wish I’d died without having to see him dead. We’re all the same.
,
THERAPIST: Paul, you understand you can’t simply re-join the Group.
,
PAUL looks around.
PAUL: Fuck this. Fuck all of this. It’s all bullshit.
PAUL laughs.
It’s all just bullshit. None of this is real. When you’re sitting here tonight being all serious, think of me out there. I’ll be having the night of my life.
PAUL leaves the room.
FOSTER follows him.
The GROUP talk amongst themselves. The THERAPIST attempts an upbeat tone.
THERAPIST: Alright, let’s all take five for some tea and biscuits shall we?
The GROUP leaves the room. The THERAPIST speaks to EMMA.
I have every right and inclination to eject you from treatment. First you refuse to join the Group, then you attempt to / demolish it from within.
EMMA: He attacked me!
THERAPIST: Believe me when I tell you I’ve seen it all before. I can’t be shocked and I won’t be undermined.
EMMA: Then eject me. I’m happy to go, just give me / my letter.
THERAPIST: You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to sit there, c
alm down and when the Group returns you’re going to apologise, then you’re going to sit, listen and learn something.
The THERAPIST leaves the room.
,
This has all been witnessed by MARK, who begins clapping, sarcastically.
EMMA looks up to see him sitting opposite her in the circle of chairs. It’s just the two of them in the room.
MARK: Bravo.
Quite a performance.
EMMA is wiping her face.
EMMA: You know, it’s rude to interrupt people when they’re telling their life story.
MARK: I do know that, yes. But that wasn’t your life story. It’s the plot of Hedda Gabler.
,
How far were you going to go with it? I mean, she fucking dies in the end.
EMMA: Don’t we all.
MARK: Not me. I’m immortal. I’ve taken hits that would kill an elephant.
MARK offers EMMA a cigarette without getting up.
EMMA: I quit.
MARK: First time huh? Yeah, I quit everything my first time. But you got to take it easy.
EMMA sits down opposite MARK.
First couple of times I went through treatment the guilt I felt. The weight of it. Came out thinking ‘I’ve failed so badly at life.’ Went straight to my dealer both times. Took enough to snuff it. First time, I chickened out and called an ambulance. Second time I went down by the canal. Stupid. Some good fucking Samaritan jogged by and happened to be medically fucking trained for fuck’s sake.
EMMA: What was the high like?
MARK laughs.
MARK: Yeah, that’s the question. Take enough to kill you must be a great high. You are in trouble.
EMMA: Was it?
,
MARK lights a cigarette.
You can’t smoke in here it’s a / medical building.
MARK: Medical building yeah.
He smokes.
Did Foster warn you about the coffee? You’ll find you’ll need much more coffee and then you won’t sleep and that’s dangerous because you shouldn’t get too tired. Or hungry. Angry. Lonely. Horny. Too anything, really. Keep the right size is what they say. We say. Keep perspective. We’re addicts because we have a toxic combination of low self-esteem and grandiosity.
EMMA: If I need advice on how to fail at recovery I’ll come to you.
MARK: You’re mean.
You’re a mean woman.
EMMA: I’m trying to change.
MARK: You’re in the right place.
Although no major changes in the first year is what they say. Don’t move house. Don’t change jobs. Don’t start new relationships.
,
So you’re an actress?
People, Places & Things Page 4