There was that much snow when I was born that the ambulance couldn’t make it to the hospital so my mam gave birth to me by the bridge at the edge of South Bank. At that time my dad worked at Smiths Dock but he lost his job and became a bar steward in the clubs. I enjoyed my childhood until I was sent away - we were seven lads and three lasses in a four bedroom house in Strauss Road, just round the corner from here - and it was good fun.

I was kicked out of school when I was five. I’d hardly started when it all went wrong. I remember I liked the headmistress and she thought well of me but I was boisterous. One day she put me in her office because I was misbehaving, and left me there. When the phone rang I answered it, and told the person at the other end to fuck off. I thought it was funny, but he didn’t, and he was apparently the head of the Education Authority, so I got thrown out. The headmistress took me home herself, and three days later she came round again, and told my mum that I couldn’t go back.

Instead, I was sent to Lowfields School, which is a place for people with learning difficulties. I spent five days there. I threw a chair at a lass, but it missed her and hit a teacher on the leg. The school told my mum that I was maladjusted and that I should go to a boarding school in Thornaby.  I stayed there, only coming home in the holidays, until I was thirteen when I was thrown out. Each time I was moved I remember that a man with a curly moustache would arrive to take me home and later he would return to take me to my new school. I never understood who he was but I knew that when he arrived it was time to go off again.

I ended up at a boarding school in Lincolnshire until I was fifteen and a half. The rest of the children were from posh families whose parents were paying for them to be there. Most of them were brought in each day from home. I was lucky, I suppose, in that I was there for free, but I didn’t think I was lucky at the time. I stole the key to the woodwork shop and I spent most of those years sniffing solvents in there.

I didn’t give up the glue until I was twenty one, and that was only to turn to sniffing petrol. I used to cut the petrol station pipes and steal a gallon or so, sniff some of it, and sell the rest. One time I did a dance in front of the CCTV cameras and a television station got hold of it and put it on the news. I was in the local paper as well - I’ve got the cutting somewhere. Because of that I was given an ASBO. I breached it by going back and doing the same thing again. The garage was at the local ASDA, and ASDA have now banned me for life, though I can’t say that’s the worst thing that can happen to someone.

I’ve never been a criminal in the sense of making money from crime but I’ve been out of control and I’ve behaved like an idiot. I broke into MFI when I was young with a group of others. They were there to make money out of it but I was there to nick the glue. I was the only one who was caught and, when I was interviewed, the police read out a long list of other crimes that I knew nothing about, but I admitted doing them all. In court the police said I had profited by fifty thousand pounds from all of those offences. Even the judge was sceptical and told me that he didn’t believe I had done them all.

There have been periods when my life has been calmer, relatively speaking that is. I was with Alice for nearly thirteen years, and I didn’t do any drugs during that time. But I still got into trouble with the police and our relationship was stormy. One time I was sent to prison for assaulting her and whilst I was inside both of our children fell ill with meningitis. Jennifer, who was four, died, and Christine, who was just three months old, survived. I only came out after it was all over. At the moment I am lodging with a relative in South Bank. I just have the one room, which is better than being homeless as I was before, but I would like a place of my own.

I see that the days are calmer now than they were when I was younger, but that may be because I’ve been deadened by what I’ve done to myself - it can’t be good for you sniffing all that glue and petrol. If I try to unravel my life and the course it has taken then I feel I’m losing my footing, so I try to avoid doing that too much.