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It was like falling off a building and suddenly, bang, you hit the bottom. The first time it happened was on an ordinary day at home. I was taking down some curtains. I took one step, turned around, took another step and then I fell and hit my head hard on the rowing machine.

I think things hit me very hard, and I wish I had allowed things to roll off my back a little bit more.

They said if I could deal with the pain, I should play. So, I did, and for some reason, I started hitting. It was a weird thing. I don't know if it was because I couldn't do too much, and I was just trying to stay up through the middle and not hurt myself.

Playing hockey, there were a lot of guys bigger than me, so I knew I was going to get hit and have to deal with it. Gotta hit back.

I was playing baseball, and I tripped over first base - I'm very clumsy - and I fell and broke my wrist. That was pretty painful.

To hit bottom is to fall from grace.

I hit rock bottom, but thank God my bottom wasn't death.

I've always been somewhere down from the top, so I've never had to suffer being knocked off the top.

I got tackled once in a movie theater. I was with my mom and brother, and then suddenly I got hit from behind and sort of sprawled out on the candy counter.