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GEORGIA CALDER, NOW 25, WAS LOST, LONELY AND SPENDING £1,000 A DAY ON DRUGS BUT THEN SHE MET A MAN WHOSE LOVE TURNED HER LIFE AROUND...

By Samantha Cope

My bones jutted out through my clothes, my skin was grey and I was covered in bruises.

I even had trouble breathing because my nose was collapsing,
I was 16 and I was a mess.

I had no dignity or self-respect. All I could think about was drugs.

My descent into drugs started when I was 14.

I lived in Surrey, I was the captain of my school netball team and I was the epitome of middle-class respectability.

But, eager to push the boundaries, my school friends and I started experimenting with cannabis and then, a few months later, cocaine.

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A few lines – about £50 worth paid for out of my allowance – gave me so much confidence.

Soon I was missing school to snort lines at the houses of people I’d met in clubs.

Still only 15, I spent days in bed, lost 2st, dropped out of school, stole from family and friends and craved drugs more and more.

My schoolmates were worried about me and my parents begged me to get help. I only wanted to be close to people that could get me drugs.

By then I had a £1,000-a-day cocaine habit, funded by my partner Dan*, a rich banker.

It was a loveless relationship – I was using him for drug money.

When it became too expensive, I turned to crack, a strong form of cocaine.

A £10 ‘hit’ – which I smoked in a pipe – gave me a better high but it was much more addictive.

Distraught at always seeing me unwashed and wasted, my heartbroken parents told me not to contact them until I’d agreed to rehab.

After about six months on crack, I woke up on a friend’s dirty floor, surrounded by rubbish and vodka bottles, and something clicked.

I was 16 and this wasn’t where I belonged.

Tears streaming down my face, I finally admitted I was an addict and called my mum, begging her for help.

She was there in 20 minutes.

For the next three months I had therapy and counselling in rehab.

My relationship with Dan had ended, and hearing about the boyfriends and happy lives my friends enjoyed made me want to cry.

A month later, I relapsed. I went back to rehab for six months and, after relapsing several times, wondered if I’d ever make it.

Then someone I met in rehab set me up with a man she knew.

Ian Pattullo (pictured left), now 34, a City trader, was gorgeous.

Within the first 30 minutes, I had opened up about everything.

Instead of freaking out, he took it in his stride.

I felt we had a connection. ‘You know what you need?’ he said, staring at me intently. ‘A holiday’.

An hour later we were on our way to Gatwick airport.

Four days later we arrived back from a romantic holiday in Tenerife.

Seven years on we have a daughter, Madison Grace, three.

I’ve lapsed a few times since meeting Ian, but with his support I always know I can get back on track.

I’ve been clean now for four years and work as a counsellor and run drug workshops in schools.

It’s an ongoing battle, but if I walk back down my old, dark path I’ll lose my beautiful girl and my gorgeous man.

And no high is worth that.

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Credits

PHOTOGRAPHY: Giles PARK, CHRIS STERLING STYLING: SARA BOWDEN, H&M
*Name has been changed