Three years ago Kate Mayne found out her 19-year-old daughter Hannah was a heroin addict and began a journey most mothers will thankfully never experience. The only time she breaks down and cries is when she has to deal with the bureaucracy she feels hinders Hannah's battle for life.

People who feel heroin addicts should be punished rather than helped make her life ten times harder than the addiction alone.

Claire Truscott reports on six days in the life of a mother fighting a losing battle.

Day one

Hannah came to me greatly distressed. She had received a letter to say her sick note was running out and the letter, dated seven days ago, only arrived this morning when her sick note had already elapsed.

She went into the benefits office and was told she had to get another one. I rang the surgery and the earliest appointment I could get was in five days' time, which means she'll have a week and a half without a penny.

Day two

She went to the doctor because I reminded her. They issued the sick note to say she's not fit to work and she took it to the benefits office.

She was told it would go in a tray in the corner at the bottom of the stairs and wouldn't go to the right people upstairs until the evening.

She asked for an emergency cheque or for someone to take her note upstairs but the man told her it wasn't his job but she could ring the man upstairs and ask him to come down.

She rang the man upstairs. He said it wasn't his job to come down but if he was passing he might pick it up.

I rang them to complain and told them she had no money and would it not be possible for them to issue a cheque? They told me that was the system and I questioned whether the system should change because it's not flexible.

He started to shout at me and I very politely told him although I was deaf in my right ear my left was perfectly fine and he didn't have to raise his voice.

He said: "Right, then. I'll get someone else to shout in your lughole." And I was transferred to a very patronising man who was obstructive.

Getting nowhere, I rang head office in Guildford and spoke to the director, who was apologetic but nothing changed.

Day three

I'd spent three days on the phone to make an appointment for Hannah and I to visit her boyfriend Ricky in Lewes Prison on his birthday.

Two days later I was told Hannah had an appointment with the Substance Misuse Service (SMS) on the same day. I explained to them about the prison plan and that it was very important to both of them - was there any way of delaying the appointment, even by a couple of hours?

I was told if she didn't turn up she wouldn't be seen for a few weeks and wouldn't have methadone after Christmas.

We just raced over to Lewes Prison and had half an hour there with Ricky instead of two hours. It took 20 minutes to get out of the prison and I made it to Brighton in 15 minutes flat.

Hannah jumped out at Preston Circus traffic lights and ran down to get to SMS for 2.29pm.

I got there three minutes later and the door was already locked. I broke down, shaking. They are so inflexible they would not have even let her in a minute late!"

Day four

Hannah has been ill with a bug which I've had too and she was taken to hospital.

When I arrived at the hospital a male nurse was trying to put a line into her vein and he was being really unkind and condemnatory to her.

He attitude was basically: "Your veins have collapsed. Why should I try to treat you?" I walked through the curtain smartly dressed and he said: "Who are you?"

I told him I was Hannah's mum and said: "I would like you to treat my daughter with more respect.

She's a human being and deserves your compassion."

After that he was fine. It upsets me when even the professionals treat addicts like they're all the same and they deserve what they get.

I do understand they must find addicts a daily frustration but I feel they need to understand that, despite that, if you show care and compassion they will respond far better than if you don't.

Ricky has born that out for me. He was someone repeatedly kicked when down and because I haven't been like that he's turned out to be a really lovely boy. Everyone's worth a chance. More than one.

Day five

Hannah is living in a hostel and has been allocated a key worker but only saw him after seven weeks of being there and not since.

She's left messages for him to call several times and I've written him a letter explaining my frustration and asking him to get in touch.

Hannah is desperate to leave the hostel. It's one of the best in Brighton but it's still full of drug users and she can't escape them to get clean.

One month on from that letter he finally called.

Day six

Hannah has been admitted to a psychiatric ward at Mill View Hospital. I was relieved. I finally thought she would get help for her drug addiction and her mental health issues.

But the methadone is given out in a different ward and as she's staying on the lower floor they won't let her have it.

She left the hospital to go to find some. The hospital had told me she was free to go but as soon as she did they called the police.

How do we keep our children safe from the scourge of drugs? Leave your views below.