I detached the retina in my left eye. I can hardly hear out of my left ear. I spent nights sleeping in lousy hotels with rock solid beds and would go out the next day (often in a high school gymnasium) to entertain my loyal fans.
This was to prove that I am good enough be in the so-called "big leagues." I am good enough to be a WWE Superstar. I am good enough to one day be a world champion. And I am good enough to consider myself the best in the world.
I was stopping the show. I had fans saying that I could out wrestle anybody on the planet, yet I was still a part of this tired act?
Was it because I don't have the look of a rock star? Was it because I'm vegan, not eating meat or dairy products. Was it because they thought of me as a nerd?
Well, that all changed on August 23, 2009. I finally signed a contract with World Wrestling Entertainment. I figured that it would be easy from here, but I couldn't have been more wrong.
After serving the prototypical time as Florida Championship Wrestling, which was nothing more than I had been doing for the previous decade, I got the call. I was going to be competing with seven other "rookies" on a new show called NXT.
I was excited. I was finally getting my chance to showcase my skills in front of a large television audience. However, this dream quickly became a nightmare.
My pro was The Miz. Miz plays a loudmouth coward who often cannot back up what he says. I mean, I can wrestle circles around the guy. I've been in this business longer than he has. But, I'm the rookie to his pro?
As if that wasn't bad enough, I had the arrogant Michael Cole, who constantly called me a nerd, per the orders of the boss.
I was on a double-digit losing streak. I was placed in stupid competitions that did nothing to judge our capabilities. Heck, I ended up eliminating myself.
However, the other rookies were sick of it too, so we planned an attack of epic proportions.
We crashed the Raw main event and destroyed everything in sight. From John Cena, the Straight Edge Society and ringside crew, to the ring itself, we left millions of people watching worldwide in shock.
Unfortunately, I was suddenly released. I was told that Mattel didn't like the message of me choking Justin Roberts sent the kids.
The rage inside me started to build as I sat out. I attended independent wrestling events. I was essentially back to square one.
Luckily, they allowed me to return at SummerSlam, to face my former allies in a seven-on-seven tag team match. I was one of the last two survivors on my team. Second only to John Cena, who of course did his three moves to win the match.
Afterwards, I became the United States Champion, defeating The Miz. I was champion for months, beating the likes of John Morrison and Ted DiBiase.
But as I began to feel good about myself again, the carpet was pulled out from under my feet. I lost the the title, with the rematch that was scheduled for WrestleMania 27 pulled at the last second. Instead, it happened on a meaningless edition of Raw, and I lost.
Every time I begin to get something, it's snatched right out of my hands. I again felt that rage inside myself.
I was drafted to SmackDown, which I considered a good thing since it is supposedly the wrestling show. After all, I am a wrestler.
I defeated seven other men after climbing a ladder to win the "Money in the Bank" briefcase.
I was going to be built up to main event WrestleMania 28?
Not.
In similar fashion to that of NXT, I've been placed on a long losing streak. Each time I lose, the WrestleMania main event seems to be slipping further out of my grasp, like all the other things did in the past.
Except if it happens again, I cannot promise I will be able to control the rage.
I may just snap.
I am the American Dragon, Daniel Bryan. This is the story of my life.