Grief is strange. I’m existing in a fog, some purgatory between reality and not, where nothing

Grief is strange. I’m existing in a fog, some purgatory between reality and not, where nothing feels right. Is this real life? Who am I in this world? I’ve lost my mom, but I’ve lost so much more in this process…I’ve lost myself. Who even am I? How can life exist in such a contradictory space? How can it simultaneously feel like she just died and that she’s been gone forever? How can I find joy in the things I once did? Everything turns to ashes in my mouth, my soul aches, every step feels like wading through water. Nothing feels right anymore.
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