Police Detective Nisha Chandra became an expert at hiding alcohol. Cider was camouflaged in juice bottles. Gin masqueraded as water. However, the biggest underlying challenge wasn't in concealing her 10-year addiction from strangers – it was from the people closest to her.
Cultural roots of secrecy
Growing up in a South Asian household, one Punjabi phrase shaped almost everything for Nisha: “Lok ko kehn ge?” – “What will people say?” A fear of judgement echoed throughout her family and community, which kept her silent for years. 'Within our culture, people's opinions matter more than what you're going through,' she tells Metro.
University and the start of dependence
Nisha's relationship with alcohol began when she went to university. She explains: 'I never had the urge to drink, but when I moved out, I had the freedom to try it. Quickly, I developed a reliance, as I was a shy, timid girl and this gave me the confidence to speak to people.' Over time, her dependence grew, and with it, an internalised sense of shame.
'I struggled with being open and living a double life: one at home, being the dutiful obedient daughter in a strict household and the other trying to fit in with my friends. I wasn't allowed to talk to boys, wear clothes that weren't 'modest' or use make-up because it was considered shameful and enticing to boys,' the 40-year-old recalls. 'When you grow up with no freedom and suddenly you're hit with it, it feels euphoric. I ended up going to student nights where drinks were £1. You could easily get wasted for under a tenner.'
Hidden addiction and physical toll
Nisha admits that her final year was spent 'going out and being hungover'. When her studies were over and she returned home, she carried on drinking. 'Any opportunity I had for a social gathering, I'd get totally hammered. I relied on it so much for confidence that I couldn't be 'myself' without it,' she adds. Her go-to drink was 'cheap, really strong cider – about six cans every night throughout most of my 20s.' Then, it turned into whatever she could get her hands on. 'Even if I hated the taste, so long as it numbed my thoughts.'
While she managed to get sober during her training to join the police force, Nisha relapsed early on in her career. 'Again I felt like that girl at university – the fear of not fitting in was overwhelming,' she explains. 'I didn't have the tools to equip me to stay sober at that time. But I never let my drinking coincide with my job, I'd always do it on rest days or days off.'
Eventually, alarming physical effects emerged. 'All my life I had lovely long hair, then suddenly, it started breaking off because I was giving my body no nutrients. I would wear extensions and hats in an attempt to hide it from the wider community. I felt like my identity as a woman had been lost.'
The turning point
The turning point, Nisha remembers, came one rainy September evening, nine years ago in 2017. Her boyfriend – now husband – noticed she had become reserved and distant from her typically bubbly personality. 'I was quiet and crying a lot – and I couldn't really pinpoint why my head felt so heavy,' she recalls. 'My husband knew I had a problem in the past, but he could see it was now affecting my mood and mental health.'
Though reluctant, Nisha agreed to attend an emergency doctor's appointment that evening. 'I told the doctor that I drank a lot and had an addiction, but she just raised her hand to stop me and told me: “I'm diagnosing you with depression.” She then said: “In one hand is a prescription for drugs, in the other, is alcohol. You have to make a choice, because you can't have both. If you don't stop drinking, you will die.”'
'It still sends shivers through me, as it was my 'penny-drop' moment.'
Recovery and breaking the cycle
Recovery wasn't easy, Nisha admits. Left to face difficult emotions without the crutch of alcohol, hot and cold sweats, turbulent emotions and fractured relationships bubbled to the surface, as she went cold turkey at home. 'It's one of the worst things I have been through – at times, I was ready to physically pull my hair out from stress,' remembers Nisha. 'What recovery did help me realise is I am really proud of my roots and my heritage. While there are horrid parts, there are equally beautiful parts to this culture, such as our aromatic food and beautiful music. The fact that I can read, write and speak my mother tongue Punjabi.'
Nine years on, and Nisha is finally in total control and works as a police detective. 'But it's taken me that long to get here,' she admits. 'I'm comfortable being around alcohol. I'll go to the pub and be the idiot sitting in the corner having a latte. But that's fine.'
Nisha no longer sees her alcoholism as something to hide. Instead, she speaks about it publicly alongside the other parts of her identity. 'I'm a police detective, a TEDx speaker and a recovering alcoholic,' she muses. 'It doesn't define me, but it is my truth. Growing up, we are taught to make the perfectly round Roti but we are never taught to speak about pain. But it needs an outlet. Mine was alcohol.'
Message to others
For Nisha, breaking the silence is no longer just about her own recovery – but ensuring others don't carry the same burden. 'I've got a four-year-old son, and I will not repeat this cycle. I can't stop him from drinking when he's older, but I can share my story.'
'Silence is the biggest intergenerational tradition we've got. You owe nothing to society, the community, or even your family,' she advises women who may be struggling with hidden addiction. 'Shame is not yours to carry. Mine ends with me.'
