The Day Everything Shifted
The email felt off. The kind you almost delete without opening, vague subject line, strange tone. I assumed it was phishing or maybe some odd internal error. But something urged me to open it.
It was real.
Later that day, we were summoned to the boardroom. No explanation. No context. Just a line of colleagues walking in, heads tilted in confusion. We still had no idea what was coming.
And then... the announcement. Cold. Clinical. Delivered like it was just another line item on someone's calendar. In a few sentences, hundreds of livelihoods were swept away. My stomach turned. The dissonance between the sterile delivery and the gravity of the news was nauseating.
Shock set in numbing, disorienting. I’d spent nine years pouring my energy, growth, and passion into this place. Now it would exist only in memory. The hallways, the inside jokes, the daily rituals, the pride in our work gone.
What hit hardest wasn’t just the loss of a role. It was the goodbye I never saw coming. The incredible people I worked alongside experts in their field, mentors, allies were more than colleagues. They’d become friends. Confidants. A lifeline during some of life’s toughest moments. Saying goodbye to them was like tearing away a part of myself.
The timing cut especially deep. I was already carrying personal grief. And now, this professional loss piled on top of it, becoming another chapter of heartbreak. The emotional weight was crushing fear, disbelief, sorrow, and uncertainty crashing over me all at once.
This wasn’t just a job. It was a second home. A family. And in a single moment, it all unraveled.
The pace at which we had to leave was deeply unsettling quietly heartbreaking and almost too much to absorb all at once. I felt a heavy cloud settle over me, a mix of sadness, fatigue, and confusion. But more than anything, there was an unmistakable sense of loss that lingered long after the moment had passed.
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