When one becomes an Archivist they are changed, rarely physically but they are no longer what they were.
There was no loss nor gain quite like it.
As an Archivist you may find the blessings as you go.
But no one can argue it's also a great loss.
A fundamental difference between what you were then and what you are now.
You might return to your old home, it no longer comforts the same.
You may see you old friends, but now it's like the understanding you had of them was... lessened. You'd see them living their lives and you no longer understand how one can put themselves in such boxes and be happy.
To live without that constant burn of curiosity, was that living?
For lack of a better term... it's like Uncanny Valley, but both ways. Archivists see what they were as... too different in a sense and their former kind seem to also be slightly unsettled by them in some way.
Becoming an Archivist is to lose your mortality or at least one's equivalent to it
To lose what made you one of your kind
To lose any fear of death
To lose your old instincts, for them to be replaced by completely new ones
To lose who you were
Your concept on morality changes as well.
"The face looks the same but the blood you bleed is different, the senses have been altered, the mind changed, the self is now someone new." - A common introduction for new Archivists.
However this loss connects you to your fellow Archivists.
It's not uncommon for a small group of Archivists to wait for the new ones to come to this realization and then come and comfort them, often giving them a small impromptu welcoming party of sorts.