I have been told “you are special” my entire life, but I never paid it any mind since everyone is special in God’s eyes.
I was born to a very young couple that were madly in love but couldn’t take care of me and my brother. At two and a half months old I was a very sick baby and my mom was living out of her car. She couldn’t afford milk formula and said I didn’t keep it in my tummy anyway. She decided adoption was the best way to give me a chance in life. That’s what made me special, or at least I was told. Adopted children are chosen, not accidents. So throughout my childhood, I was reminded on a daily basis that I was adopted, immediately hospitalized due to malnutrition, and blessed by God. And I’ve always believed it was true. God protected me then and has never left me.
At 19 I married and was expecting my first child. My little bundle of joy entered the world on the first day of autumn in my 20th year. My life was like any other stay-at-home mom. When I was 22 I gave birth to my youngest son. All through my twenties and early thirties, life was hard but God always provided our needs. Who hasn’t had a hard life, right?
When my youngest son was about five years old, our finances were nearly nonexistent. I had so desired to enter the workforce and this was my perfect excuse. You see, sometimes we marry into old-fashioned ideas and it takes an extreme event to change them. I embraced the notion and dove head first into a business casual corporate America job. I worked long hours (often including overtime) to provide for us. I went from spending all my time at home with the kids to spending the majority of my time at work. I wasn’t the only one working but I was the biggest provider.
There are many reasons why people start a blog. Read on and see why Chrissy started hers
Six years later
We had a profound tragedy strike our little family. My husband of 14 years was diagnosed with metastatic cancer and died the next day. Needless to say, our entire lives changed at that point. Our outlook on life changed. Our emotions and the way we interacted with the world changed.
I was plagued by visions re-enacting it all; he was dying over and over. I tried to block it out by focusing all of my attention on the other family members, to make sure they were coping well. It helped me avoid the visions & dreams for a little while, but not long. I stopped sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him… laying on the floor…with blood on his lips. So, I just stopped closing my eyes. Eventually, it caught up with me. No one can go without sleep and remain healthy. My body shut down so I was forced to seek therapy.
The kids saw a therapist soon after it happened. Due to the horribly cruel things that family members said to them, they needed the therapy. They embraced it, took advantage of it, and fully interacted with it. I, on the other hand, was stubborn. The grief counsellors that my insurance paid for were all freaks. One wanted me to read a book he had written (and that was my therapy). Another requested that I allow her to talk the whole time. A different one wanted me to sit on the floor with her staring at a flower vase… I could go on but I will spare you!
I went through 11 different therapist or counsellors until I found one that resonated with me. I could talk to her. She really didn’t say much to me. She just listened. But one of the few things she did say, was the best advice I received.
She explained to me that it would be the best way for me to find closure because of the extreme nature of his death.
This was the birth of ChrissyAdventures.
I found that I could pour my heart out writing online and it felt so safe. Finally, I could voice my grievances and take a stab at those selfish rude and ignorant people who hurt me and the boys while we were in shock. I knew that those family members who had hurt us so badly would never read it. It was liberating and freeing to be able to write. My first thought was to get anger & hurt off of my chest. The Lord had other plans. In the end, I wrote about my struggles with depression, grief, PTSD, and a brief bout with PCS. I was composing my post mostly on a cell phone (at that time spell check wasn’t available but auto-correct sure was. It took silly liberties changing my words). I had many errors and I didn’t care. Then one day, it hit me.
I realized the tone of my writing had changed.
I had become more grateful in life……
I began to realize that every day was a gift and live in the moment. I started to see every special thing that happened in every day. I was so genuinely thankful for being able to experience life. I incorporated that into my writing and a funny thing happened… People started to follow, comment, and share. I felt honored. I felt humbled. I felt compelled to continue. With some hesitation, I published a makeshift bucket list of items that I thought I would never have an opportunity to do. It was more like a ‘no-way not happening list’.
As time went by I realized I was actually accomplishing some of those things I never thought I would. I began to mark things off the list.
Life goes on happily
Widowed for 3 years, I did remarry. The Lord sent me a man who would not stop asking me to marry him. This man who professed his love for me promised to give me everything I ever wanted emotionally and he has. He incorporated me into his business so that I could leave Corporate America and once again enjoy the kids. He has taken me on many travels and helped me cross many items off the bucket list. He is my best friend and my greatest helpmate. He refused to let me stay in the depressed state I was wallowing in. He joyfully nagged me until I came out of that nasty depression. He is filled with the love of the Lord and helps me get back on track.
We married in 2013 and I haven’t regretted a day since. I am not saying that everything has been perfect, but I am saying that I love him and am grateful to him. He has helped me with my daily Adventures by refocusing me when I fall away. When I forget to be grateful, he reminds me. He fully supports my writing and loves me wholeheartedly. He loves all the kids as though they were his own.
He’s the sweet in my tea and the dressing on my salad.
*So every little Adventure that I’ve written about, I just know that he is there. He’s in the background for you dear reader, but in the forefront for me. He’s a crutch God gave me for when I can’t walk on my own. He’s the sweet in my tea and the dressing on my salad.
I like to think that at some point, I’ve inspired some of you to see every day as an adventure and embrace it. Because every moment that we have is borrowed and every opportunity to love should not be squandered.
Thank you to Chrissy Polovich for sharing her story. It takes courage to open up and many others no doubt will be inspired to talk about their past and be helped to move on into the future. Here again is the link to her blog Chrissy Adventures.
Look out for more life stories that will be published in the future.
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