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As I began to feel more comfortable physically, I posted my first ever dancing video. I was happy to finally share my spirit with other people, and the outpouring of love and support from that initial post is what inspired me to keep posting.
Having the realization that not only was I able to change my life and keep myself accountable, but do the same for others, impacted me.
I returned home in January and had my first real ‘A-HA! I remember sitting in the driver’s seat of my car and seeing my stomach pushed up against the wheel. I remember feeling like I was sitting in my own donut, eating myself to death. On March 29, 2017, I made one of the biggest decisions of my entire life, to go through with having the gastric bypass surgery.
March 30th, the day I was supposed to be released, I could not drink water.
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I was physically unable to move more than 3-4 steps and didn’t want anyone to touch me. My doctor said it was the biggest blood clot he had ever seen, being nearly the size of a deflated football. Two weeks later, I was re-hospitalized for further complications.
That day came and went, and the following day I started to throw up blood. The doctors spent days trying figure out what was going on, and why my body was rejecting itself. Looking back now, those three weeks were a painful blur, FRUSTRATING, and absolutely terrifying. It was a long road to recovery but by month two I was healthy.
“My name is MC Solomon, but better yet, I am MCLIVINIT. While I am losing weight and getting healthy, I am constantly working on my mental health. We would purposefully spill things on our faces and joke that we were saving it for later.
At the young age of 9, my idea of perfect life took a turn for the worst. From that year on out, until I was about 15 years old, I was forced to go to Fitness and Training camp every single summer in the scorching Texas heat. Well, the first thing that comes to mind would be the movie, ‘Holes.’ Manual labor was the only way of getting our 10 minutes of phone calls a week, IF we even got that much time.
Being the drama queen I once was, my first year of camp, I managed to only attend 2 of the 8 weeks I was supposed to attend.
My house was ‘TP’-ed and the boys that were responsible for toilet papering it wrote ‘FAT ASS’ in massive letters on my front walkway with shaving cream.
Little did I know then that those words not only physically would stain my sidewalk for 7 years, but would also emotionally scar my heart.