After a day of school runs and washing up, Louise, 38, an influencer from London, was looking for some excitement once the kids were in bed. But what started as a bit of fun, soon spiralled into a drug addiction costing her £80,000 and nearly ruined her family’s life.*
It was 3am on a mid-week night earlier this year and I was lying in bed, my heart pounding and sweat pouring off my body. I’d hit rock bottom. My two sons, Harry_, 12 and Josh_, nine, slept in their rooms, while cocaine rushed through me. What had started off as an occasional dinner party treat had now taken control of me.
When I had my first son, Harry, I was super-mum. I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol during my pregnancy or breastfeeding, throwing myself into motherhood. But when I had Josh, three years later, it was a different story. I started to feel I wasn’t a good mother and struggled to cope with the loss of identity. I’d given up my job to become a stay-at-home mum, but now my whole life revolved around the kids. I missed the glamour of my job as an influencer.
When Josh was six months old, one Friday evening after putting him to bed, I took a line of cocaine and felt an amazing rush. It wasn’t the first time I’d taken it: I’d had my first line of cocaine with a boyfriend at 21, then in my 30s I occasionally took it on nights out, which is why I had some already in the house.
Instead of drifting around in my slippers, suddenly I was whizzing around at top speed getting all my chores done ready for the weekend. The stupid thing was, I did everything in double quick time, but it didn’t give me the gift of ‘me time’ because I couldn’t relax or sleep afterwards. The next day I was exhausted.
Still, it soon became a regular ‘treat’ for me at the weekend. Once the boys were asleep, I’d pour myself a glass of wine and take a line of coke. I felt like it was my reward. Everyone else seemed to be going out having fun and there I was stuck at home by myself with the kids. My husband was always working – even at home he’d shut himself away in his office. Sometimes I’d meet up with my mum friends and we’d do cocaine together at their houses or mine.
The fact other mums were doing it helped me justify my cocaine use. I mix in an affluent London scene, and in the same way you might be handed a glass of champagne at someone’s house, you’re handed a bag of coke. That normalised it in my mind and made it more acceptable. On social media, there are so many jokes about mums and Gin O’Clock – this was similar. Around half my friends were taking it, but usually just a line or two and no one else seemed to be doing it home alone like me.
Meanwhile, my habit masked the fact depression was setting in and my husband wasn’t sensitive to it either. In fact, he was cross that I wasn’t managing. Instead, he’d work away a lot and as our relationship broke down, I wanted to escape the world that was falling apart around me.
But taking it at home by myself removed the brakes on my use: I could ‘settle in’ and didn’t have to stop after one line because friends were watching. I became greedy.
Over the next few years, I went from an occasional user to an addictive drug abuser. I’d find myself withdrawing £100 from the cash point on the way home from the school run. I had several different dealers I’d buy it from. My husband could see I was in a bad way but had no idea it was down to cocaine. Instead, he assumed I was having a breakdown. Eventually four years ago, when our sons were eight and five, we split up.
Struggling as a single mum, my addiction escalated. My friends were my lifeline but by the first lockdown in March 2020, I’d spiralled completely out of control, taking 10-12 lines of cocaine a day. The pandemic made everything worse. I didn’t see my friends, I didn’t have to be up in the morning for school runs, and there was no one to check up on me. The only people coming to the house were four different dealers. It was a vicious circle – cocaine was my way of escaping, but the more I used, the less I was able to cope.
Home-schooling was a disaster -the boys were just glued to their Playstations which I felt wracked with guilt over. I saw them as another sign I’d failed. The lines were getting bigger and bigger, as the drug had less effect on me.
By then, I was spending £100-£200 a day on cocaine. I never got into debt, because I started with more money than most, having been a successful influencer, earning over £100,000 at the peak of my career. I’d gone back to work when Josh started nursery, but over time, as I became more erratic, cancelling jobs, I lost all my work and my business partner.
I looked awful – my skin was dry and spotty, I had dark circles under my eyes and my clothes were hanging off me. Instead of eating meals, I’d have a big line of cocaine. I was also terrified I’d accidentally leave traces of cocaine on the bathroom sink. In my mind, if my sons found out the truth about me, my life was over.
Finally, the moment came in February this year, when I lay in bed thinking, ‘I’m either going to die or I need to get help.’ I’d blown over £80,000 from my divorce settlement on my drug habit. I needed saving.
I Googled ‘help me give up cocaine’ and found an on-line treatment centre Help Me Stop - because I couldn’t have left my sons to go away to rehab. I contacted them at 3am and they accepted me onto a six-week course which included 2.5 hours a day of group sessions via Zoom and one-to-one therapy sessions. Getting clean was a phenomenal process. Having been trapped in this dark world of addiction, after a couple of weeks, I realised I could smile again, sleep again, laugh with my children.
It wasn’t easy and I still attend Narcotics Anonymous meetings online every day which are essential to my recovery. To this day, none of my friends and family have any idea about my addiction, but I told them I’d had therapy. A friend admitted, ‘You dropped out of our lives, it was as if you were dead.’
I haven’t told the boys about my addiction either, but I’ve talked to them about the dangers of drugs and spoken frankly about mental health. Great things have started to happen at work and although the temptation is still there, I’m calmer, back in control and feel like me again.’
Help Me Stop is a non-residential addiction treatment centre. See www.helpmestop.org.uk
*Names have been changed to protect identities