My Parents Picked Drugs Over Us Every Time!

In a compelling multi-part series, guest writer Christianna Shields courageously recounts her tumultuous journey through childhood abuse, parental neglect, and the evils of drug addiction, ultimately finding solace and renewal through her faith in Jesus. With raw honesty and transparency, she vividly portrays her experiences of agony and resilience, sharing her path to spiritual and emotional freedom. This is Christianna's story.

Part One

I am ready to tell my story. I have never done anything like this before, so I'm just going to start from the beginning and work my way to where I am now. It will have to be in parts, so here is Part 1, entitled: "My parents picked drugs over us every time!"

If I had to pick a Scripture looking back, I would choose Isaiah 41:13: "For I am "The Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you..." As a child, with all I went through, GOD has had HIS hands on me the whole time; even when I didn't feel protected, HE was protecting me. Everything was necessary to help me through the next valley.

My backstory

I was born in Naples, Italy. My mother is African American, and my father is Italian. From my understanding, my mom was stationed there in the Navy. She had a one-night stand with an Italian man, which led to me, so I have never met my biological dad. I moved back to the States when I was 18 months old. My mom met another guy in the Navy while stationed in Corpus Christi, Texas, and my brother Austin was born.

Later on, my mother and stepfather were stationed in Denver, Colorado, and this is where my story begins.

I was about seven years old. We lived in a beautiful two-story house; by now, the family had grown: I, the oldest, my two younger brothers, and a sister. Life was great, as I remember, but that was short-lived because I could have never guessed what was on the horizon. Some neighbors a couple of houses down would throw these wild weekend parties that my parents would frequent. And that's when they were introduced to crack cocaine.

Studies show that children suffer when their parents/guardians fight.

Being so young, I didn't realize what was happening, but my grandparents must have sensed something because they were moving in with us the next thing I knew. They moved all the way from Georgia to Colorado. Though this was about to be the start of a bad season, it was my best years with my grandparents -- it was mindblowing just how strategically GOD was working, already knowing the things we would face.

I have fond memories of my grandmother. She introduced us to the Lord at a young age and took us to church every Sunday at Mt. Carmel Missionary Baptist Church. I was baptized at this church, but I was too young to know and understand the meaning. Every night, my siblings and I would go downstairs and kneel at my grandmother's bed, where she taught us the Lord's Prayer.

My grandmother spoiled us. We had the best meals we ever ate (home-cooked meals every day), and we would ride the bus down to Woolworths (F.W. Woolworth Store) for shopping and milkshakes. We were being kids and enjoying every minute of it until the day our grandparents had to leave.

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When Parents Choose Drugs Over Their Children

I was about ten years old, and I remember a big argument. It was the first time I heard the word "drugs," but it wouldn't be the last. My grandmother was telling my mom and stepdad they needed help. We had lost the car, the bills were behind, and my grandmother couldn't sustain us. I remember my mom being mad and saying, "She didn't need no help." This was her house and her kids, and she kicked her mom out.

I would see my grandmother again when I was sixteen.

Things started changing fast after that. One day, my mom and stepdad said we were moving because the house had flooded and all our stuff was ruined. However, I never recall seeing any water in the house.

We were being evicted! From there, we moved into an apartment, and it was here that I started seeing more and realizing what was happening. We had a lot of traffic in and out of our apartment, and I remember this awful smell on paydays. It was the sickening smell of crack cocaine. I would become very familiar with this smell.

On paydays, to appease us, my parents would buy us all these snacks and let us do whatever we wanted because the adults were in one room getting high, and they couldn't care less what we did.

The days after were always the worst, when they came down off the high and realized all the money was gone. They would sometimes argue (and fight), hurling insults at one another and picking sides.

I discovered (and was often reminded) that I had a different dad from my siblings during these fights. Whenever they fought, my mom would take me and tell my stepdad that I wasn't his child, and I would go with her. There were nights when my mother and I slept at the bus stop or rode the bus all night from one city to another. This behavior would last a day or two, and then they would reconcile when payday came.

In the next installment, Christianna shares how her family was evicted again and how they landed at The Samaritan House, a homeless shelter in downtown Denver, Colorado. The story describes her experience at the homeless shelter, women's battered shelter, boarding house, and motel.

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Christianna Shields is the mother of five beautiful daughters, one already with the Lord. She has been a nurse for 22 years and works at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee. She knows that serving people is her calling. Christianna is newly divorced after being in an abusive relationship for 17 years.