Paula Loader, 47, is a recovery worker for charity Addaction and lives in Bournemouth with her sons Alfie, 16, and Fenton, 13.

“Back home after the school run I drew the curtains and poured a vodka – my second drink of the day. A knock on the door jolted my focus.

"A woman from social services told me they’d had a tip-off that I’d been drink-driving on the school run. I panicked, petrified she would take my boys away.

All I could think was: ‘How could this happen to me?’ I was 17 when I left home to start a job as a chef at a Bournemouth hotel, and while I liked to party hard, life had totally calmed down by the time I entered my 30s.

By 2003, I was married with a baby son, Alfie, and three years later our second son Fenton arrived. As the months passed, Fenton’s behaviour caused concern.

When he was three a specialist diagnosed him with autism, but knowing what was wrong didn’t make life any easier. By the time he was four I’d split from his dad and given up being a chef to become his full-time carer.

Every day was the same routine. We drove the same routes, read the same bedtime stories and Fenton ate the same foods. If things changed, he’d have a meltdown. I tried to put on a brave face, but I felt like I was drowning.

I didn’t consider drinking as a way to cope until I realised ‘wine time’ was a thing. I’d hear mums talking at the school gates about how they were looking forward to a glass of prosecco at the end of a hard day and thought maybe it would help me de-stress, too.

But what started as a glass of wine in 2014 quickly turned into a bottle a night, so I switched to vodka to reduce calories.

I knew I was drinking too much but I always had an excuse. If friends came over for lunch, I’d put our get-together down as a celebration.

If Mum mentioned it, I’d blame it on a bad day. I even alternated shops so the owners wouldn’t recognise me when I bought booze.

On Sundays I’d watch Alfie play football with my vodka hidden in a water bottle, but I still denied it was an issue. In 2015 I began to need a drink after waking just to stave off the withdrawal symptoms and function properly.

I knew it was wrong and I felt guilty, so tried to limit the first medicinal drink to the bare minimum. One night my best friend Sarah, who I’d known since we were 11, tried to talk sense into me.

She begged me to get help, but I lied and said I was fine. To me, alcoholics were men on benches drinking booze out of a paper bag. Without alcohol I’d stumble over words and shake and sweat uncontrollably.

The mornings were awful. I’d have to drink vodka as soon as I woke just to get the boys to school on time, even though I knew it probably meant I’d be over the limit to drive.

I was so worried about getting caught, I'd take the back roads and never engage with people in the playground. To those on the outside, everything looked fine.

The boys were always at school on time, did their homework and dressed smartly. But at home, even though I never got angry or violent, Alfie knew something was wrong.

He’d learned about the dangers of alcohol at school so would find my stashed bottles and throw them out, hoping it would stop me. It didn’t.

BTW

UK women are among the world's biggest dinkers.

Alcohol-related deaths are at the highest rate since 2008.

In England there are 589,101 dependent drinkers.

For more information visit Addaction.org.uk

Although my family pushed me to seek help, they always supported me. Both Mum and the boys’ father would help – he knew that taking our sons away would have ended my world.
When the social worker arrived that morning in September 2015, I was in the grip of addiction. It just didn’t register how wrong my behaviour was because I was no longer thinking straight.

Despite my fears, social services were great and arranged transport to take us to and from school. Thankfully, the police never got involved.

Mum also moved in and lived with us so social services could be satisfied that there was a responsible adult in the house. I had a detox and joined Alcoholics Anonymous later that month.

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As part of my recovery I needed to apologise to Sarah. She confessed that the tip-off had come from her when she realised I was drink-driving as she’d been worried about the kids. I wasn't angry – I thanked her for what she'd done.

My recovery has been a long journey. After relapsing twice, I’ve been sober since spending 12 weeks in rehab in November 2016.

This March I started working for charity Addaction, helping other addicts. By having a fresh purpose I have new identity, and my sons have the mum they deserve.”

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