I don't know how I feel

Here I am. In the midst of moving. Starting a new job. Planning a wedding. Making plans for starting a family. So much change. So much...progress. And then 3 days before Christmas she has a heart attack. And she doesn't die then, but she would never return home from the hospital after that. I visit. We have deep talks. I'm the one who is there when the cardiologist delivers the news that there is no more to be done. I am the one who supports her while she chooses to transition to comfort care only. Then it's my last stretch of shifts for a week. I talk to her on my break. She can't speak much. I ask if she'd like me to read to her tomorrow, so she doesn't have to talk. I promise to read her favorite book. I book a hotel near the hospital for 4 nights. I'm there the next day. She's not gone yet, but she's not with us anymore either. She passes within the first few pages after I start reading, and I'm holding her hand. In January she's gone. In February, I turn 30.

And here I still am. Still moving. Still getting married. Still planning kids. Without her here. Forging on. Somehow. It doesn't feel wrong, exactly. But I do feel stuck, despite it all. Frozen. Far away. Lost. I always updated her. On the little things. Big things. Now there is this yawning silence. In myself. In the world.

Sometimes I feel guilty for not grieving enough. Sometimes I feel guilty for pitying myself too much.

She was my grandmother, but she was more of a parent. She said she saw me as a daughter, too. My biological parents were not present most of the time.

She also said I was always her strongest one. But I don't feel strong. Everything is moving too fast and I'm struggling to keep up. I'm extreme highs and lows and not much in between right now. I guess I'm OK. More or less. Technically. Objectively fine.

But the world is changed forever and so am I. Everything and nothing is normal. It's surreal. It's deafeningly real. I don't know. I don't know how to do this.