The interruption initially brought relief. It created space to rest, reflect, and reassess the conditions under which I had been operating for years. It also clarified something else: the professional structure I was part of had little capacity to respond to vulnerability or change. After fifteen years of commitment, I was let go.

What followed was not a collapse, but a confrontation. With systems that prioritize efficiency over care. With the limits of loyalty in environments built on endurance rather than sustainability. And with my own long-standing belief that dedication alone would be enough.

This realization was sobering. It deepened the psychological impact and led to a prolonged period of depression and disorientation. I had encountered corruption and moral compromise many times in fragile political contexts abroad. Experiencing similar dynamics within Dutch institutions I trusted forced a painful but necessary recalibration of how I understood responsibility, power, and self-preservation.

Recovery took time. Years, not months. Yet during this period, something important became clear: I was far from alone. Conversations with others revealed how many people were struggling under similar pressures, navigating the psychological and ethical consequences of an accelerated, digitally driven world.