The number of homeless people in Bournemouth has trebled in two years with a reported increase in rough sleepers taking legal highs. Tara Russell meets the people behind the shock statistics.

IT was the heartbreaking moment he realised he literally had nothing.

His only possessions were taken from his home - the doorway of a Bournemouth shop.

Now he will never be able to replace the treasured pregnancy scan, his little boy's graduation certificate from pre-school or the stack of photos that were a reminder of happier times.

“It was literally all I had in the world but when you are homeless, you are not a person anymore. You literally don’t matter.

“You can’t sit there crying about it because the reality of living on the streets is each day you wake up is another restart, another day you have to survive.”

Known as Jethro, the 29-year-old dad blames his spiral to homelessness on legal highs and hopes his story warns of their dangers.

“They are cheap, easy to get and everywhere but people underestimate just how dangerous they are.”

Until two years ago, he had it all.

Jethro moved to Bournemouth to study Contemporary Theatre at university where he met the mother of his five-year-old son.

However the relationship fell apart when his partner discovered he was cross-dressing in private.

“Gender identity is something I battled with for most of my life and I think stems from being adopted and leaving my biological mother at four.

“For years I tried to ignore it, but suddenly the lid was opened.”

Jethro who worked in telesales and rented a flat in Bournemouth said his life fell apart when he began experimenting with legal highs.

Legal highs fall into a category of drug-like substances that can be bought in shops or online without breaking the law, but which give the body the same artificial rush of endorphins - or ‘high’ - as illegal drugs such as cannabis or ecstasy.

“I didn’t know how to deal with everything. The way i felt about myself was distressing and confusing and i felt very alone. I’m ashamed to say that though I love my son to death, with an addiction, your priorities change and you don’t notice it happening until it is too late.

"I didn’t buy tobacco. I would use cigarette ends from the street – anything to have more money for my addiction.

“At one time I survived on £10 for three weeks because I spent everything else on legal highs.

“I lost my job, couldn’t afford the rent and was homeless.”

For 10 months begging and shoplifting became part of his daily routine to fund his addiction.

"In the moment, the sense of right or wrong just isn't there. It's just where can I get the money, you don't think about who it's affecting and what's going on."

Despite his struggles, Jethro says life on the streets has encouraged him to be true to himself and strive towards a better life.

"Since I've been homeless, I have crossdressed in public and worn make up because I feel people are judging me anyway, and I feel a lot better about it.

"Of course there are good days and bad days. Last week a group of students took a few of us out for a roast dinner but another time, I thought someone was being kind but my friends have had to step in when I was being dragged down a street. My drink had been spiked.

"It gets complicated if you start regretting because you never know where your life will go.

"I'd love to get into acting and I hope I will see my son again."

Sean Jones: "Heroin has ruined my life"

IF Sean Jones could turn back time, he would.

He says being hooked on heroin since he was just 12 has ruined his life.

The 19-year-old, said: “Throwing up, losing control of my bowels, it’s no life but that’s the reality of my addiction. I regret it all.”

Sean says he tried cocaine at 10 and by 12 he was smoking heroin.

“I’m a gypsy and we travelled everywhere and lived in a caravan. Through the traveller crowd, I had easy access to drugs and it’s only got worse and worse.”

At 16, Sean was told to leave the mobile home due to his alcohol and drug abuse.

The following year he says he was raped by a man who is now in prison. “It was bad, extremely bad and I felt like I couldn’t tell my family until it was too late.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been on the streets and in trouble.

“Heroin is my life and it has ruined my life.

“Not eating, not drinking, not bathing, not sleeping, not associating with people you should be associating with, that's no life.”

Arthur: "It's a vicious circle when you're homeless"

HE dreamed of a better future and decided to leave Latvia for a new life in the UK.

Arthur could not believe his luck when he got a job as a warehouse worker within days of going to the job centre in Bournemouth four years ago and secured a flat.

The 26-year-old, said: “My life in Latvia was okay but it was hard finding a job with the economic crisis so I came to Bournemouth, known as a sunny town. At first it worked out and I couldn’t be happier.”

However after struggling with personal issues including a relationship breakdown, he lost it all.

“Everything crashed and I had an emotional breakdown.”

For a year, his home has been everywhere from car parks and bus shelters to doorways across the town centre.

“It was a struggle. People think as soon as you’re homeless, you’re an alcoholic or a drug user but that’s not always the case.

“I’d love to have a job again and have a roof over my head but because I don’t have an address and I have lost all my documents so I don't have any ID, I can't. It's a vicious circle when you're homeless.”

Rachid Mosae: "I had everything... now I turn to legal highs to get through the day"

RACHID Mosae says he had a dream life.

Married for 20 years, dad-of-three, a mortgage, a job at the docks in Liverpool and a business teaching children boxing, life couldn’t get any better.

“I had everything, I was blessed with a family but I was stupid, things happened, and suddenly I had nothing. I realised what depression was.”

Rachid, originally from Colombia, got divorced and had nothing to his name.

For 12 years he has lived on the streets. He admits he has been in trouble with the police and today calls his home the doorway at McDonald’s.

Like many of the town’s homeless community, the 48-year-old now turns to legal highs to get through each day.

“Losing my boys broke me and now there is nothing. It makes you realise it could happen to anyone."