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All loose things seem to drift down to the sea, and so did I.

When I was in my twenties, it felt like I was riding wild horses, and I was hoping I didn't go over a cliff.

My first encounter with the ocean was on the Jersey Shore when I was three years old and I got knocked over by a wave. The ocean certainly got my attention! It wasn't frightening, it was more exhilarating.

I was so busy fighting and so busy trying to keep everything above water that I didn't realize I was spiraling downward with nowhere to go.

It was definitely some tough moments throughout my life, but I kind of stayed focused and came through the other end of the tunnel.

I was so keen to get back to sea. I was rattled.

I was accustomed to being in far, far riskier environments. So I thought going into that canyon was a walk in the park - there were no avalanches, it was a beautiful day and I was essentially just walking.

It was the roughest time in my life. Connie helped me through it.

When I was 23, I went to Alaska by myself into the glaciers of the coast range and climbed a mountain by myself. It was incredibly reckless, incredibly stupid. But I was lucky. And I survived, and I came back to tell my story.

The sky was falling down on me and I spent most of the time drunk. It was the only way I could handle it.