Life isn’t some serene journey. It’s a rickety, whiplash-inducing, terrifying and amazing rollercoaster, and most of the time, it feels like the safety bar is loose. You go up, you go down, sideways, and sometimes, completely backward. Every single day is a new adventure or a new disaster.

This week, my rollercoaster took a sharp turn through the tunnel of horrors. Several sharp turns.

The downs came in a cascade, a relentless series of drops that left me breathless:

• Another cardiac distress visit to the E.R., another round of being dismissed and judged.
• Watching my beloved kitten die. A sudden, gutting loss.
• The crushing reality of being too sick to work but not sick enough for disability, leaving me without even enough money for a cup of coffee.
• A fight with my partner sparked and fanned by the sheer stress of it all.
• The grocery money I desperately needed, stolen by Doordash, taking days to get refunded while I went hungry.
• Watching my dear friend Gus face public persecution on social media simply for supporting me.
• My pharmacy account getting hacked, my information changed, blocking me from the prescriptions I need to function.

It’s the kind of week that tests your grip, that makes you wonder if the ride is ever going to level out. It’s enough to make anyone want to get off.

But here’s the secret of the rollercoaster: just when you think you can’t take another drop, the track starts to climb.

Despite it all, the ups came, too. Small glimmers and soaring peaks of pure, unadulterated hope:

• After our fight, my partner spoke my love language and wrote me a poem I will cherish for the rest of my life.
• I finally started a new, disability-friendly job. A lifeline. A chance to get back on my feet.
• My mom and I are carefully repairing our relationship.
• I managed to buy eleven copies of my own novel for the book signing next week. It’s not a mountain, but it’s a start.
• Three other local bookstores reached out, wanting to host signing events. One even wants to start a "Moore Book Club."
• I received a letter from the Library District; they’re interested in stocking my novels on their shelves.
• My best friend is taking the time to come visit soon.
• I got a five-star Amazon review for my newest novel and a comment on Facebook from total strangers that made me cry with their simple, profound kindness.
• I stood on a balcony in Las Vegas with my love and watched the fireworks paint the sky.

This is my life. It’s so messy and hard and scary. But it is also breathtakingly beautiful, hopeful, and endlessly fascinating. It’s the brutal drop and the exhilarating climb, all happening at the same time.

There’s no secret to taming the ride. You can’t. All you can do is learn to breathe through the free-fall, trust your grip, and know that even when you’re plunging into darkness, a sky full of fireworks might be waiting at the top of the next climb.

You just have to hold on.