My Corrie hell… and the cruel jibe from my co-star that left me sobbing and broken: HELEN FLANAGAN reveals the pill addiction that nearly ruined her life – and the childhood episode that started it all

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Former Coronation Street actress Helen Flanagan recently shared in the Daily Mail how being involved with boxer David Haye affected her mental well-being. In a new excerpt from her candid memoir, she openly discusses her challenges with ADHD.

I remember the precise moment everything felt different. Something inside me altered, like a mental switch flipped, and it’s never gone back to the way it was before.

I was eight years old when I had a fight with my two best friends, Beth and Laura.

We were three friends who formed a girl band at our primary school in Bolton. During every break, we’d practice our dances, dreaming of becoming the next big thing like the Spice Girls.

One day, Laura unexpectedly quit the group, just like Geri Halliwell famously did with the Spice Girls. She told Beth and me that she no longer wanted to be a part of it.

I was really upset. Acting childishly, I threatened to write to a teen magazine and tell everyone what Laura had done, hoping to get back at her. Looking back, I definitely overreacted. It was just a silly argument, like the ones kids have on playgrounds everywhere.

The following day, Laura was absent from school, and I was called to the principal’s office. To my surprise, I was accused of bullying and scolded. I was completely shocked because I always tried to do the right thing and had never gotten into trouble before.

That experience really disturbed me and, looking back, I think it started a long struggle with emotional and psychological difficulties. I often think things might have turned out differently if everyone had been more considerate at the time.

After that, I began to dread going to school. I got really anxious about speaking up in class, and I constantly worried about who was absent and if they were staying home because of me – if they thought I had been bullying them as well.

Around this time, I started having disturbing, repetitive thoughts that made me doubt my parentage. I became convinced I was actually the daughter of my older sister, Jane.

I became completely consumed by these recurring thoughts. News stories would bother me for days, and I found myself fixating on the basement of our house. I’d relentlessly imagine terrible scenarios, like someone being kidnapped or finding a body down there, causing myself a lot of distress.

As I mentioned yesterday, I think these were initial indications of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, a mental health condition where people experience unwanted, intrusive thoughts that can be disturbing.

Some of my worst anxiety attacks happened at church. My family was devout Catholic, and my parents made us go to Mass every Saturday night. I was often asked to do a reading out loud, and leading up to it, I’d become consumed with the fear of having an embarrassing accident in front of everyone. The more I worried, the more convinced I became that it would actually happen.

Whenever I had to read aloud, I would rush through it as fast as possible. Immediately afterward, I’d run to the bathroom to check if I’d stumbled over my words – but I never had.

There was nothing I could do to get these thoughts out of my brain. I was trapped.

 

I was diagnosed with ADHD just before turning seventeen, but honestly, it didn’t really mean much to me initially. The more I learned about it, though, the more things started to click and make sense.

I’d always been a bit of a daydreamer, but I finally understood why I was so easily distracted – and it turned out I wasn’t flawed, just naturally inclined to get lost in thought.

When I started taking methylphenidate – Ritalin or Concerta, specifically Concerta for me – it made a huge difference right away. It was like a revelation, and I finally felt clear-headed.

I didn’t understand that this seemingly perfect solution would actually lead to my downfall. Soon, I became dependent on it, and it pushed me to the brink of losing my mind.

I used Concerta for almost twenty years. Looking back, I realize I was essentially misusing the medication, and it felt like a form of drug abuse due to the amount I was taking.

I wasn’t paying attention to how often I refilled my prescription, and now I realize I’d become addicted. The medication made me feel good, and I’d get anxious and shaky if I didn’t take it regularly.

I later found out I should only take one tablet a day, but I was taking three times that amount. It’s no surprise I was feeling paranoid and acting irrationally.

In 2012, I left my role on Coronation Street after struggling with depression for 13 years while playing the character Rosie Webster.

From the outside, my life looked perfect. I had a good career, a wonderful boyfriend – the footballer Scott Sinclair – and a lot of supportive friends and family.

Mental health challenges can affect anyone, and I felt a persistent sense of despair and hopelessness, as if a dark cloud was always hanging over me.

I also started struggling with social anxiety and began having frequent panic attacks. I’d experienced them on and off before, but now they were happening constantly.

No matter where I was – whether filming on the Coronation Street set, grabbing coffee, at a restaurant, or even at Scott’s parents’ house – I was always anxious. My heart would race, I’d struggle to breathe, and I’d start sweating.

If I had been recording when it began, I would try to finish the scene as quickly as possible, because I knew I’d soon be unable to continue. I also developed a compulsive habit of swallowing repeatedly, and my hands started shaking so badly I couldn’t control them.

I really disliked working on Corrie. I felt stuck in a very negative headspace and became anxious about going to work, constantly worrying that my colleagues were against me. I often found myself crying in my dressing room, but I couldn’t even pinpoint the reason why.

Antony Cotton, who played Sean Tully on the show, once really hurt my feelings. He playfully teased me about my medication, announcing, ‘Here comes Helen Flanagan – you can hear her coming!’ It actually made me cry.

He thought it was funny, just a way to get a few laughs, but it was devastating for me. I was too upset to say anything. I just went to the restroom and cried.

It seemed obvious I was really struggling, but nobody ever asked what was wrong. Even when I had a very public breakdown in January 2010, right after the National Television Awards in London, no one tried to help me figure things out.

Many of us from Coronation Street went to London for an awards ceremony, where we were nominated for quite a few prizes. I especially remember the trip because it was just before Scott’s 21st birthday, and I went to Cartier to buy him a special gift – a love bracelet.

Corrie won the award for Most Popular Serial Drama, along with a few others, and everyone had a great time. However, the following morning brought some unexpected problems.

I was finishing up packing in my hotel room when I looked under the bed to see if I’d forgotten anything. That’s when I saw a man lying there, looking back at me. I was absolutely terrified! I screamed, and while trying to get out of the room, I hit my head hard on the door.

I completely panicked. I genuinely believed someone was after me and trying to hurt me. I rushed to the elevator, frantically hitting the buttons, desperate to escape. When I finally reached the lobby, I was so overwhelmed that I just collapsed, trembling, on the floor.

I somehow convinced the hotel staff that a man was hiding under my bed, which caused the entire hotel to go into lockdown. After around ten minutes, the manager and security came to my room and explained there was no one there. It turned out I had simply seen my own reflection in a discarded mirror that was under the bed.

My coworkers all found it funny, so I pretended to laugh and acted like I wasn’t bothered. But secretly, I was really upset because I knew something was seriously wrong.

Looking back, I really wish someone on set – a producer, a guardian, anyone in a position of responsibility – had simply asked about the medication I was taking. Just a basic check-in to see if I’d considered how it might be impacting me. It never happened, though. No one ever questioned what I was putting into my body, and honestly, it breaks my heart. A simple conversation could have potentially changed everything and maybe even steered me away from years of struggle.

 

It’s March 2021, and I’m at Royal Bolton Hospital with my newborn son, Charlie. Those first few hours with a new baby are incredible – a feeling I wish I could capture and keep forever, knowing this little one will always be a part of my life.

I was completely lost in the joy of those first few weeks as a new mother, and I had no idea how soon everything would change.

Oh my gosh, a midwife just came in, and she was so sweet! She looked at me and immediately said I must be completely wiped out, which, let’s be real, I am! Then she offered to take the baby – my precious little one! – so I could finally, finally get some sleep. It was the most amazing offer ever. I almost cried, honestly. Just the thought of a nap… it was heavenly!

I initially wanted to decline – I preferred to keep my baby close. However, she was so generous with her offer that I reluctantly agreed.

Almost immediately after the nurse took Charlie, I became incredibly anxious and couldn’t stop worrying. I started to believe the nurse was going to switch him with another baby born on the ward – a baby whose mother was Asian and whom I’d briefly seen while I was in labor.

The Asian parents and I had similar-looking babies – we all had dark hair and comparable skin tones – which led to some confusion between our children.

I rang the buzzer and the midwife came in. ‘I really want my baby back,’ I said.

‘OK, love.’

I could feel the panic rising. ‘Now. I want my baby back now.’

When they brought the baby back, I wasn’t even sure it was the same one. I just stared, desperately trying to find a familiar feature or remember what my baby had looked like only moments before I’d given him away.

I wondered if something about the baby was different, something that didn’t quite seem right. It happened so quickly – in just a few minutes, I went from feeling incredibly happy to being overwhelmed with obsessive thoughts. As I started nursing him, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there had been a mistake, that the midwife had accidentally switched babies.

My OCD was now in overdrive and any notion of rational thinking was out the window.

The day after I left the hospital, I told Scott what was bothering me. ‘I’m afraid the midwife accidentally switched our babies,’ I said.

‘What do you mean swapped?’

‘I don’t think this is Charlie.’

‘Huh?’

I explained to him that the midwife had taken Charlie away briefly and that, during those few minutes, she must have accidentally swapped him with the baby belonging to the Asian woman.

‘Come on, Helen. This is madness.’

‘I know it’s probably my OCD…’

He asked, with a dismissive eye roll, if I was serious, clearly not believing a word of what I’d been saying.

‘But I can’t shake it, Scott. It’s driving me insane.’

Scott is a very direct person who sees things in simple terms – either one way or the other. He doesn’t really understand mental health or how people feel, so when he spoke to me, it wasn’t meant to be hurtful or dismissive; he simply didn’t understand the situation.

But mind you, neither did he make much attempt (if any) to.

I always tried to see things from Scott’s perspective – to understand why he was unhappy with his job, his past, and his life in general. But he never made the effort to understand me, and that lack of mutual understanding was a major reason we eventually drifted apart.

Each day, I felt increasingly sad and overwhelmed with upsetting thoughts after giving birth. Even while nursing my baby, Charlie, I felt a deep sadness and longing for the child I’d hoped for – my own baby.

Okay, let’s talk honestly. It’s incredibly difficult to admit, but I’ve experienced something really unsettling. There were times when my thoughts drifted into deeply prejudiced and racist territory, which is completely foreign to who I am. I’m a strong advocate against racism, and as a parent to mixed-race children, the experience was frankly horrifying. It’s something I’ve been grappling with, and I wanted to share it because acknowledging these hidden thoughts is the first step to dealing with them.

I recall being interviewed by Ranvir Singh on Lorraine when my obsessive-compulsive disorder was really flaring up. I was intensely worried I would accidentally say something offensive on air, and I struggled to focus on the interview while battling those anxious thoughts.

I really should have started therapy sooner. It took me four weeks after Charlie was born to realize I couldn’t cope on my own. This illness was overwhelming and taking over my life.

Being able to finally talk openly with someone unbiased and sort through my thoughts was crucial for starting my recovery. I’ve come to realize and accept that I’ll likely experience periods of obsessive-compulsive disorder throughout my life, and I’m now prepared to deal with them when they happen.

I’m now confident that this difficult time won’t last forever. I’m determined to get my peace of mind back and won’t let obsessive-compulsive disorder control my life.

Honestly, I’m just not a pills person. I see other people getting help from medication, and that’s great for them, but for me, it just feels like putting a band-aid on something deeper. What really works is talking things through, proper therapy, and just taking care of myself – getting enough sleep, eating well, and being mindful of how much I drink. And being outdoors? It’s a lifesaver! Living where I do, with the countryside right on my doorstep, means I can just go for a walk whenever I need to clear my head. It genuinely makes such a difference. I’ve finally figured out what I need to do to manage things, and it feels amazing.

 

I’m actually starting to like being single. I’m adjusting to it, and honestly, I don’t feel ready for a relationship right now.

I truly don’t know what my life would be like without my children, Matilda, Delilah, and Charlie. They’ve been my saviors in so many ways. Knowing they’re happy and healthy gives me the strength to get through anything and experience a love that never fails, even when times are incredibly tough.

This leads me to Scott. Despite everything, I still love the father of my children, and sharing this is incredibly difficult for me.

Whenever I’ve spoken publicly about Scott in interviews, I’ve always been generous to him.

We share three children, and he was once the love of my life, so I’ll always do what I can to support and defend him.

I’ve recently reached my breaking point. Honestly, I’m devastated by his decision to sell our home in Bolton, where my children and I live.

I’ll never forget the day he gave me the house – I immediately started dreaming about our future there. I invested all my money into making it a perfect home, and it truly has become my peaceful retreat.

Scott owns other properties he could sell, like the house his mother lives in, which is similar to mine, but he hasn’t listed them yet.

It’s been really difficult and upsetting having strangers come and look at the house. Since Scott lost his job as a football manager, even though he still pays the bills, I’ve been left in a tough financial spot.

I know Scott loves his kids very much, but he needs to be more involved in their lives. It’s not enough for him to only be around when he wants to, or to only see them every two weeks. He needs to be a consistently present father.

Okay, I seriously need to tell him no more! He keeps insisting I drive all the way to Birmingham for these handovers, and it’s just… too much. It’s a huge trip for me, especially with everything I have going on with work. I love seeing him, honestly, but this is getting ridiculous. I need to protect my time, you know?

Despite being deeply hurt by him, I still love Scott, and it’s been hard to write this – he truly meant everything to me.

Honestly, I really hope Scott and I can resolve things, especially for the kids. I do still love him, and there was a time I genuinely thought we might get back together. It’s been tough, but I’m hoping we can find a peaceful place for everyone’s sake.

Right now, I’m really focusing all my energy on acting – I want to see how far I can take it. People often ask about going back to ‘Corrie,’ and honestly, I’d definitely consider it if the opportunity came up. I’m keeping my options open!

I’m excited to be performing in a play at the Octagon Theatre in Bolton starting next week. It feels like a great way to get back into acting.

I’m really looking forward to a more peaceful and stable life, with less unexpected stress. I want to focus my time and energy on what’s truly important to me, and I’m optimistic that the best is still ahead.

This is an excerpt from Head & Heart by Helen Flanagan, available January 29th (Mirror Books, £22, 288 pages). Copyright © Helen Flanagan 2026. You can purchase a copy for £19.80 (offer ends February 7, 2026) at mailshop.co.uk/books or by calling 020 3176 2937. Free UK postage on orders over £25.

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2026-01-24 19:53