I really adore seeing people do extremely cool stuff with how dark the origins of the Vestige are
You are violently murdered for no reason and your soul sacrificed to Molag Bal. A daedric Animus takes your form and manages to do it perfectly, a rare feat creating a perfect Vestige. Most of the soul shriven are imperfect vestiges, just mindless shuffling husks. It replicates your memories and knowledge to the point it feels like it is you, but You are gone. You can die and reform due to the nature of a daedric animus being unable to truly die*. You Have No Soul. You Are Not You.
How do you go about your life as this? Convinced yourself that you Are you, but you're not. You're a perfect copy. Do your friends accept you as you? Are they weirded out by you? Do people mourn you while you stand in front of them convinced you're still alive?
Somewhere out there, Tamriel's most powerful necromancer has your corpse. What is he doing with it? Was it discarded without care, or does it serve him personally? You can't do anything about this.
And then you Do recover your soul, at long last, but the body is still not yours. You're inhabiting the body of a stranger that knows you Perfectly. Now go on and live your life, Vestige.