What it’s like to be a recovering alcoholic in your 20s: Kiwi play tells all

Elizabeth Cracroft's show REHAB debuted at Covert Theatre in 2021, drawing on her recovery from addiction. Photo / Alex Burton

OPINION

Elizabeth Cracroft, law school graduate and creator of the theatre show REHAB, discusses “recovering loudly” to break down the stigma of addiction.

My drinking story was pretty lock, stock and two smoking barrels – the full buffet of all alcoholism’s idiosyncrasies in eight short years, before getting desperate enough at the age of 24 to find my way out, with the lifesaving help of rehabs and other recovery members.

This was preceded, however, by years of resistance. I still remember being mortified when well-meaning friends encouraged me to try a recovery meeting when I was 20. I was so insulted and thought I was way too young and smart to be an actual alcoholic. I’d also never met anyone in recovery before.

Of course, they were completely right — and were long-suffering patrons who’d been unwillingly granted a front-row seat in witnessing their promising, all-rounder school friend being obliterated by alcoholism. The blackouts, the alcohol in my drink bottle at university lectures, the extraordinary rearrangement of my external life in an attempt to “fix” my drinking. I moved 10 times in years, always hoping a new flat would be the solution to my drinking.

My sobriety date is July 22, 2009. I still vividly remember being at social events in early recovery and telling people the reason I didn’t drink was because I was pregnant or on a cycle of antibiotics for a urine infection. Much more socially acceptable than admitting I was a recovering alcoholic.

The problem is, if we all keep our recovery a secret (which we should all have the discretion to do), those suffering with this disease will continue to do so in isolation, with little idea of what recovery can look like. That’s why it’s been said that we recover loudly so others don’t suffer silently. The stigma that surrounds addiction (substance use disorder) means people need real-life examples of recovery to be able to conceive a way out for themselves.

Two and half years ago, I recovered very loudly and shared my story publicly for a piece in Canvas magazine about the theatre show REHAB I’d created at the Covert Theatre for the 2021 Auckland Fringe Festival. One of my main motivations was to address the stigma attached to addiction.

Although the article received very positive feedback (including from a prominent politician who identified with my story), I feel like a bit of a guinea pig for being so open – but l remind myself: “You got into recovery young”. “You’re 14 years sober now.” “The desire to drink is honestly gone.” It still makes me anxious telling some people about REHAB for fear that they’ll read about my past and judge me. In a recent local committee meeting, I mumbled my reply when someone asked what the show was called and now they may think it’s about a kebab.

I’ve also just finished a law degree and am about to enter a reasonably conservative profession. If I was still a publicist — my pre-law school career — maybe it wouldn’t matter as much, but I worry (the wake-up at 3am and panic type of worry) that a potential legal employer may hold prejudice against me for sharing my story. Although, like a good law student, I could also argue that my journey and long-term recovery have armoured me with a wealth of life and coping skills that will help me be an effective lawyer. My law degree has also taught me to critically analyse and challenge the status quo, giving me the courage to create REHAB in the first place.

Set in a residential treatment centre, REHAB is an improvised, devised dark comedy/drama. As its eclectic ensemble of characters demonstrates, addiction doesn’t discriminate. My own time in rehab and at recovery meetings showed me that people from every single community, profession and industry you can think of have been affected by this cunning, baffling and powerful disease. Smart, capable, talented people.

The cast of REHAB for its new Basement Theatre season, including the show's creator Elizabeth Cracroft, sitting third from left in the front row.

Since its opening in 2021, there have been three more seasons at Covert Theatre. Next Tuesday, the latest version opens at Auckland’s Basement Theatre with a cast of 16, including me. One of my favourite parts has been the audience feedback, including from many in rehab at the time who were rapt to see their experience reflected on stage. I’ve spoken to CEOs who were moved by the show and said it made them reconsider how they would respond to an employee with substance abuse disorder. One elderly man who came along clutching a notepad and pen thanked one of our cast members, with tears in his eyes. I’ve heard others have been inspired to attend recovery meetings because they identified so strongly with it.

REHAB is also very funny. Yes, there are vulnerable, deeper moments, but the humour is what makes it real - and the message more palatable. We spend a lot of time in early recovery laughing at ourselves, as a way to contrast and acknowledge how vastly different our life in addiction was. So many people have asked me whether our counsellor character, played by Mark Scott, is a real counsellor. Nope, he’s just a really good actor and had the guidance of very capable drug and alcohol clinicians.

All the characters have been individually devised using insights from the actor’s own life (including other ways they may have experienced marginalisation) and inspiration from people in recovery who have shared their stories. You’ll see, among others, a musician, an equity partner at a leading law firm, a VIP hotel host, a primary school teacher and a film director, plus a cohort of young actors. As I know from my own life story, recovery in your teens or 20s is possible, with willingness and the right help.

Following strong industry interest, a small group of us with lived experience (and a few others) are working to develop REHAB into a TV series as we continue to recover loudly and help others still suffering to find a way out. Rehab and recovery isn’t a stroll in the park – it requires willingness, diligence and maintenance; but compared to addiction, it is the easier option. Friends and whānau of the addicted person need just as much support. And of course, life still happens. I’ve dealt with two pregnancy losses, infidelity and raising my young child as a single parent (while studying law), but recovery gives me the tools to deal with anything and no matter what, I know I never need to pick up a drink.

• REHAB is on at Auckland’s Basement Theatre, November 7-11 (tickets: choose what you pay, from $8).