I sprinkled ecstasy on my cornflakes as a model in the Nineties – now I’ve been sober for 20 years

The first time I got drunk was at 15 on a family holiday in Majorca. I had been trying to keep pace with the beer drinking of my dad and his friends. I can remember the first half of the evening and then nothing else, until I woke up on the floor of the hotel bathroom the next morning.

I felt so ill. I was a young athlete who regularly did pentathlons, trampolining and boxing and was used to feeling fit and healthy, so the sensation that I’d been poisoned was enough for me to swear I’d never drink again.

And I didn’t, for the next few years. When I did start to drink again at 18, it was a couple of times a week when at the pub with the guys, on a date or out partying.

There was an incredible dance scene in London, where I lived at the time, and I spent weekends at large dance venues with hundreds, sometimes thousands of other people, where taking ecstasy was the norm but I was always moderate and controlled. That first experience of what it feels like to take it too far was firmly in the back of my mind and my priority was still my fitness.

Life, at the time, was not exciting. I was working as a builder, installing suspended ceilings. So when, at 21, my mum told me that she had entered me into a modelling competition that gave the winner a two-week holiday and a new wardrobe, I went along with it and then won.

A short time later, I was having some head shots at Select Model Management and was booked in for my first modelling job – and I just loved it. It was a completely different atmosphere from what I was used to. The room was buzzing and everyone was so talented. I found it fascinating. After a second job, it cemented in my mind that I wanted to be a model.

An editorial for The Face magazine in 1993 is what took things to the next level. A lot of people saw that cover and from then on, work came steadily.

My whole life started to change, which at the time was both exciting and a little difficult as I went from leading a very local life with its stability to moving around the planet with people I had just met and cities I hadn’t been to before. I had gone from being a builder, a regular young guy from Upminister, to doing shoots for Banana Republic which was on billboards in Times Square, as well as Levi’s, Burberry, Ralph Lauren, Armani and Versace and later dated beautiful celebrities like Cameron Diaz and Jennifer Aniston.

Everyone I worked with was professional but alcohol and drugs were normalised on some jobs. By 11am, the music was ramped up and champagne popped. The crazier people were, it seemed to be a badge of honour and it was infused with how creative they were.

My career was going well which meant that I was working a lot and, after every job, there would always be a massive celebration – a heavy night of drinking and drugs. I’m an introvert by nature and found it wearing being around new people in groups. Having a drink or using cocaine made me feel like I could talk to anybody, anywhere, about any subject. It was like a superhero feeling that took away my fears and anxieties.

As I became more well known, things had started to become free and readily available – I would be given free tables in clubs and put on VIP lists. For a young guy in his 20s, this was incredible. But it also involved drinking and drugs.

I didn’t realise it at the time, but my enjoyment of alcohol and drugs was becoming a problem. On days off, I’d find myself going out on my own at lunch and downing a bottle of champagne with oysters – and thinking that was completely normal.

My addiction also had a negative, and sometimes horrendous effect, on my relationships. My drugs of choice – cocaine and alcohol – always came first and I became selfish. There were many discussions with partners about how much I was partying.

I don’t blame modelling work. I believe that, whatever I was doing, whether I was a pilot or property developer, that somehow I would have gone down this route.

I remember being on a yacht in the Mediterranean on a holiday and sprinkling drugs – what I thought was ecstasy – in my coffee and onto my cornflakes. It seemed like a perfectly normal idea at the time. But I ended up being hospitalised after collapsing on a flight back to New York that night. I promised I would stop taking drugs but I only lasted two months.

It continued to take a toll on my health and fitness. I was dehydrated a lot of the time and lacking in nutrition. Healthy eating would often go out the window and I would crave heavy carbs which caused puffiness. If you treat your liver, and body in general, with disrespect there will always be consequences.

Saying that, I modelled for more than a decade and, when working, I was pretty diligent with eating well and going to the gym. If there was a late dinner before a shoot, I knew not to drink because I knew that I would overdo it. The control I displayed in these situations meant that I was in pure denial that I had a problem.

In the end, by the time I turned 29, life was very bleak and very sad to me. I had turned from a positive, bright young man to having a very negative mindset. I would not wish it on anyone.

Being in addiction is like being on a dark, cold roller-coaster ride which you are not in control of. It takes all the light and positivity away from you; it’s like an evil and corroding thread and the fabric of your existence is shot through with it.

At 33, I got to the point that I was completely done. I was suffering from panic attacks, anxiety, depression and I no longer really wanted to be here. In hindsight, I didn’t want to take my life – it was the addiction I wanted to kill off.

I decided to go to rehab, the Priory in London, for my drug problem and get off the roller-coaster. I told my parents straight away and they were devastated. On my way there, I stopped at a bar and had a large glass of red. Somewhere in my body, I knew it was the last drink I’d ever have, though at that point I thought cocaine was my only addiction.

When I was there, I remember running out of the building in search of a pub and feeling like, if I could just have a drink, I would be able to cope better. That’s when I realised that I was dependent on alcohol and decided that I needed to recover.

The staff there educated me on what addiction is and that I had been ill with it, they told me the solution to this problem – the 12-step programme – and then it was over to me.

I made a commitment to myself that no matter what I had to do, I would put recovery first. I got a therapist and didn’t work for the next year – a luxury I know others can’t afford. But it was common to earn five figure sums a day when I was modelling.

Giving up drinking and drugs was very painful and difficult in the beginning. I reflected on my life and realised that addiction affected my work, relationships, finances – every part of my life. This can be a hard pill to swallow but gave me a clear road map to learn by and not to do again.

I know that other people struggle to stick with recovery but my mindset was that I just wanted to completely change my life at that point. I think once you make that decision to get better. Sure it’s tough but at least you have a positive goal and direction.

If I ever do think about having a drink, which rarely happens, it’s walking around London on a summer’s day, when I do get a pang for a pint of beer. But then I remember that I’m missing the idea of it, rather than alcohol itself. I only have to think about where that would take me and it’s a “no, thank you”.

After a year off from work, I went back to modelling and that’s when my career took off again. I did some of my best campaigns, feature films and TV work once I was sober, moving to the states for eight years and then back to the UK. I worked more years after recovery than I did before and I enjoyed those years working sober much more.

My relationships are now so much richer. I met my partner, Federica Amati, a nutritionist, on a night out at a fashion event a decade ago. She is a beautiful bright being and the fact that she is focused on wellbeing through food is a huge plus to the family home. When you’re a sober man, you’re honest and reliable, so we have the best relationship.

I wouldn’t want to think about how different my life would have been if I hadn’t recovered from my addictions. I don’t think I would have been around too much longer to be honest. I don’t think I would have met Federica.

We have two wonderful daughters and I do worry about the potential for them to be exposed to substances in the future, of course, but they have a very healthy happy home, so I only hope they won’t be affected, like I was, when they are older.

Now, I’m fine with there being alcohol in the home, though there’s not much of it – mainly wine for guests. I don’t have an opinion on other people drinking at all – it’s me that I have to look out for.

I have made some sober-friendly tweaks, however. We had a sober bar at our wedding, as well as one serving alcohol. I took inspiration from Ronnie Wood, who had the same set up at a party many years ago.

After recovering, I trained as a mindset coach. I have always been interested in people and their behaviour. Having been on the journey I have, I continue to work on myself and work with other folk.

A decade ago, I set up the Stride Foundation with Federica to help others with addiction. It’s been hard work but so rewarding. We raise funds to get people into treatment and recovery and provide educational talks in schools.

Last August, when I reached 20 years sober, I launched my This is Powerful podcast, where I interview guests who speak candidly about their substance abuse and how they achieved sobriety. I’ve also talked to experts in the field of addiction. The first episode of the second season will be released on February 6.

To those living with addiction today, my advice is to be honest with yourself about whether you need help and to please reach out for it. You can change your life completely – you don’t have to be stuck.

As told to Emily Craig