A cut above: Daniel Galvin Jnr

My lowest point was when I realised I was trying to kill myself through cocaine. My wife, Suzanna, who was my girlfriend at the time, had kicked me out of our home because I kept breaking my promises to get clean. I kept relapsing and going on benders that would last several days. I would be surrounded by what we called "circuit girls" - women who hung around waiting for free champagne and free Charlie. I thought the more drugs I did, the more I could lose myself, and the easier it would be to forget about being kicked out by Suzanna. She was the only thing that kept me stable. We met at a christening eight years ago; she was a model. If it wasn't for her, I'd probably be six feet under by now.

I was 28 and going out five nights a week on benders, surviving on one or two hours' sleep. I'd often not show up for work in the salon my father had made famous. I went out every night to the best clubs, the best bars, parties, clients' houses, holidays in Ibiza - anywhere it would be okay to do drugs.

I used to do silly amounts of drugs and would wind up pretty much in a coma. On a bad week I'd spend more than £1,000 on coke. I was off my rocker. I remember saying to Suzanna over and over again: "That's it. I'm really going to knock it on the head." But when she went on holiday with some friends I dropped her at the airport, went home and, within 24 hours, I contacted my dealer and went on a 36-hour bender. I thought, shit, I've made a promise. I'm not going to get a second chance. When I was kicked out I realised I'd lost the woman I loved, my family, and everything I'd worked for since going into my father's business at 16 had gone up my nose.

I had a privileged childhood. We grew up in a beautiful house in Hertfordshire with a pool, and I had an excellent education - at Millfield in Somerset. But I never had a relationship with my father because he was always away on business.

He'd been an apprentice at Leonard's in Mayfair in the Sixties, and opened his first London salon, in Marylebone, in 1978. He was and is hugely successful. At his peak he had salons all over the world; he's one of the most successful hairdressers in Britain. I was very close to my mother, Mavis; she almost made up for him not being around.

But it was when I started working, and was trying to grow as a person and achieve success, that I began to feel the weight of expectation - my father was pretty tough, pretty hard on me. He never gave me any encouragement. It seemed the more successful I became, the more he resented it. He never told me he was proud of me. My childhood dream was to be a professional footballer; I had to give that up to go to Millfield.

I didn't want to be a hairdresser; I wanted to be a journalist. But when I came back from a summer holiday my father said, well, if you want to earn some pocket money, why not come into the salon, sweep up, shampoo and so on. When I saw all these beautiful women in the salon, I decided to do an apprenticeship. I thought, if I don't like it I can still do a journalism course. My father just expected me and my younger brother, James, to follow in his footsteps, but my mum didn't.

Although I have a lot of celebrity clients now, back then I had to earn respect in the business like everyone else. I soon found out there is a lot more to the job than cutting hair. You have to listen to clients' problems, be their friend. It's a very stressful, tiring business being on your feet all day dealing with women! There's always a drama going on. After I qualified at the age of 18, I worked on the shop floor for three years and co-managed the George Street salon's 60 staff.

In the early days, I had a lot of high-flying clients and I'd get invited to a lot of society parties, which as a young kid was quite overwhelming. I liked to drink, but I never did drugs. I just did all the things teenagers do. When I was about 19, someone offered me a line of coke at a party. It didn't do much for me at the time.

By the age of 21, I'd fallen out with my father, mainly because he didn't
allow me to rise through the ranks at the salon. Although I was still a hairdresser, I was working in another salon, where I'd built up a great clientele. On the surface I had everything, but when I got home at night I was miserable.

I couldn't understand what had gone wrong between my dad and me. It was then that I really turned to coke, because it was a way of losing myself, not having to deal with or confront past issues. That's when it really snowballed. That's when I went on the road to hell.

My family and friends became aware of my drug problem, and they knew I'd been in rehab a few times, but because of the rift with my father I think they turned a blind eye. I don't blame anyone but myself for the mess I got into. My father and I still haven't resolved our differences.

When Suzanna kicked me out, I had to make a decision: do I really want to die? I'd tried several rehabs in England but I always went back on the coke. I missed Suzanna so much, and would show up at her house asking her to give me one last chance. One of her friends had told her about Narconon, a rehab centre in Oklahoma, which combines intensive use of saunas, vitamins, nutrients and detoxification. They don't give you medication, they make you work to the core of the problem. I realised that unless I gave them a call, I wouldn't get Suzanna back. I did and they were brilliant. The people at Narconon were very warm; most have been addicts themselves so they know where you're coming from.

I went to Heathrow and jumped on a plane. It took six months of my life and cost 15 grand, but I don't think you can put a price on your mental or physical welfare. The 10 years that I was an addict I didn't grow up, I didn't achieve any of my objectives. In the five years I've been clean, I've achieved so much. Two years ago Suzanna finally agreed to marry me.

It took a long time to make up for all the damage I'd done to the people I
love. Now I've got everything that's important to me. I have a clear mind and a clean body; I work out five times a week, which helps keep the stress of life at bay.

I'm back working in the family business, in the same salon as my father, but we don't speak. My father said in the press recently that he had been in a clinic for depression because of our falling out. He blamed his problems on me. I think you have to take charge of your own issues.

Most importantly, I have a beautiful wife, and two beautiful sons, Raffael and Rhett. That's all that really matters.

Narconon: 0207 235 7607