I am at Raw. After my match, I go to the doctor's office. They have to put shots in my neck. I always close the door, so Undertaker doesn't find out. I don't want him to freak out. I get 3 shots, then I am free to go. I walk out. On my way to the locker room, I hear him.
UNDERTAKER: "Hey! Babe!"
I stopped, afraid to turn around. He gets closer to my back.
UNDERTAKER: "Why did you just leave the doctor's office?"
I can't lie to that sexy southern drawl. I turn around and grab his big hand. I lead him to a place where we can both sit, alone. I looked at my lap, to avoid showing him my face.
UNDERTAKER: "What's going on?"
ME: "At the beginning of my junior year of high school, a few months before turning 17."
I feel like I get PTSD, every time I think about it. My doctor never really diagnosed me, but he said it might be a thing for me.
ME: "I was bullied really bad. They fought me in the hallway. I got a bad concussion. It also effected my neck, arms and legs. I was in the hospital for a few weeks. My body is still not completely ok. WWE let's me use their doctors, when we're on the road. They were giving me shots, to help with pain."
UNDERTAKER: "Oh my gosh! Are you sure you should be wrestling?"
ME: "I'm fine. I make sure to do everything the doctors tell me to do."
If they told me to stop wrestling, it would be sad, but I wouldn't have any other choice.
UNDERTAKER: "It's horrible what those monsters did to you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
Coming from a guy who entered a Hell in a Cell with a broken foot. He took my hand and kissed the back of it.
ME: "I'm fine."
