‘I was a shoplifter and heroin addict – now I help others like me’

I was in the bath trying to get warm, surrounded by needles, screaming to God for help. I thought, “I’m going to be dead soon”.

I’d been out shoplifting, and hadn’t been able to find anything to sell to buy some crack and heroin. My long-term partner had died of a methadone overdose and my circulation was so poor that I couldn’t take in any of the drugs I was able to buy. At the age of 43, I’d finally hit rock bottom. And I was ready to change.

This chapter of my life had begun when I was 15. That was when I met an older guy named Dave, who was 26. He looked after me and made me feel special. At the time, we didn’t have the awareness of grooming that we have now. I lived in a nice part of Leeds, where that kind of thing didn’t happen. My dad, a well-known policeman and pub and nightclub owner in the area, said that Dave was a nasty piece of work. But I rebelled. In my mind they had no reason not to like him. I thought he was brilliant. My mum was desperate and reported me to social services, but because I was only a few months off turning 16, they advised me the best ways I could be safe.

They put me in the middle of Leeds, with three other girls who’d just left social services. They were 16 and 17. You can imagine what happened. The parties were endless. Dave told me he smoked cannabis oil and shared it with me. He’d smoke it in front of his mum so I believed him. I used it for a week and then one day I woke up and thought I had the flu. I was vomiting a vile green liquid. I’ll never forget what came next. I said, “This isn’t cannabis is it?”. He said: “You’ll never leave me now, will you b****?”

Two months after I turned 18, I married him. He’d never hit me until the wedding night, when he beat me black and blue. He went on to beat me when I was pregnant. I lost the baby. He beat me so often that I can never have children again.

We had our wedding on a Thursday and I was arrested on the Sunday. We’d stolen cars and rammed them into a computer shop so Dave could loot it – he fled the scene and I was arrested. By Tuesday, I was on the way to prison. There, I became adamant that this was a one-time thing and that I’d never go back to jail. But a prison officer had warned me: “If you stay in that relationship, you’ll be in and out of here for a long time.”

After I got out of prison, I met Evo at a trap house in Leeds on Bonfire Night in 1995. He was so charismatic, charming and protective. He made me feel safe even though I tried to push him away because of what I’d been through. Dave couldn’t touch me anymore because he knew that if he did, Evo would beat him up. Dave and I lost touch a few months into my relationship with Evo. I found out later that, years after we parted ways, he died by suicide.

When me and Evo got together, he would always say, “I love you before you love me” because it took me a long time to open up. We were together for 28 years. I thought of us as Bonnie and Clyde, until the alcohol took him over in the last 10 years of our relationship.

Over 32 years I was imprisoned for so many crimes. I can’t remember how many convictions, charges, and prison sentences I’ve had. Shoplifting. Theft. Burglary. Assault. Drugs. It was a continuous cycle.

In July 2022 my life changed again. Evo was feeling sick and becoming jaundiced. I begged him to get help, but he thought he would be OK. He was a very stubborn man. His condition worsened, and one day I woke up and he was dead. I was arrested and accused of murder, which was later dropped to a lesser charge of supplying drugs which resulted in death.

At the time, I was living with a sex worker in Leeds who was getting help from the Joanna Project, a brilliant support service for women. They would pick me up from wherever I had happened to find myself. My case worker, a woman called Jackie, fought for me to get the support I needed.

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My probation worker also fought for me not to go to prison again. I wrote to my stepdad and my mum for the first time and asked for help, which I’d never done before. The judge gave me a chance. He asked: “Has this woman ever been to rehab?” and ordered that I get support for my drug addiction. I never thought I’d be grateful to a judge, but that one question changed my life. He took a chance on me, and I’ve not looked back since. I wish more judges would give addicts a chance because you’re in a constant, endless cycle. If you’re released homeless then you go back on drugs and go back to crime and so on. Jackie and the judge could both see something in me that I couldn’t see in myself.

When my support worker drove me up to Littledale Hall rehab the year after, I couldn’t even get out of the car. I had chronic anxiety and was shaking. I couldn’t be in a room full of people. My support worker sat with me on a bus shelter outside the building and I looked up and saw a stone that said “Hope”, which I took as a sign from Evo and my dog, who had died. On the first day, I introduced myself: “Hi, I’m Charlie, a junkie shoplifter from Leeds” – because that’s how I saw myself.

After three weeks of detox, I started rehab for the first time on 5 September 2023. I wasn’t the easiest client because I had such a jail mentality – if I’d shown vulnerability in jail, I wouldn’t have survived. My sister has also been a big help. She’s eight years older than me and has always supported me. After 43 weeks, I had my first full four and a half hours of restful sleep on 1 December 2023. I lived in supported accommodation and continued to get support and left there before March this year and have been living in Preston ever since.

I’ve had counselling and learnt about the patterns of domestic violence and abuse. I’ve learnt a lot about how my past has affected me and the things I can do to change what happens in my life.

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With the help of Lancashire Women, I’m continuing to get counselling. I’ve finally got my GCSEs with their help. I’ve earnt certificates in child neglect and safeguarding and have become qualified to be a support worker. I’ve had more education in the past year than I’ve had in my lifetime. I used to have darkness in my head all the time and now I have light.

I volunteer as a peer mentor with probation and Littledale and will be doing the same with Lancashire Women, too. I share my story on TikTok and Instagram and I have almost 9,000 followers, who tell me they’ve been inspired by my journey.

I’m happier than I’ve ever been, but it still doesn’t stop my mind from going off some days and I still have nightmares about Dave.

I used to see myself as “Charlie the shoplifting junkie”. But now? I know I’m compassionate. I know I can help others. I was 46 when I first went to rehab. If my story helps just one person realise that it’s never too late to turn things around, then I’m happy. If I can give other people hope, then I’m happy.

If you or someone you know is suffering from drug addiction, you can seek confidential help and support 24-7 from Frank, by calling 0300 123 6600, texting 82111, sending an email or visiting their website here.

In the US, the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration can be reached at 1-800-662-HELP