When my dad was sick, I started Googling grief. Then I couldn't escape it.

I am a mostly visual thinker, and thoughts pose as scenes in the theater of my mind. When my many supportive family members, friends, and colleagues asked how I was doing, I'd see myself on a cliff, transfixed by an omniscient fog just past its edge. In the scene, there is no sound or urgency and I am waiting for it to swallow me. I'm searching for shapes and navigational clues, but it's so huge and gray and boundless. I wanted to take that fog and put it under a microscope.