Today, I’m not talking about the markets. I’m talking about how someone was slowly pulled back from the brink of liquidation.
July 5, 2021, 12:18 p.m. The numbers on the screen were wiped away, as if someone had erased my whole self with a rubber. 410,000 yuan in debt came crashing down. My credit card payments were overdue, and there was only one thought left in my head: This is really the end.
I used to run for three hours, eat regular meals, and keep a routine like clockwork. Then I started watching charts all night, barely picking at my food, smoking one cigarette after another, and leaving the curtains closed for days. A collapse is never just about money. You can make up for paper losses, but once you lose heart, you can’t even bring yourself to open the app.
A follower, Xiao Deng, messaged me: “Brother Xinying, I think I’m close to becoming depressed.” I understood. He’d thought about leaving crypto countless times, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give up. Later, he started delivering food and picking up odd jobs, and managed to save 5,000U in two months.
I told him just this: Don’t rush to win it all back. Don’t take oversized positions. Don’t go all in. Don’t let greed take over the mouse. Keep your total exposure under 40%. What’s left isn’t ammo—it’s rent, food, and emergency money. If you’re wrong, cut your losses. Don’t fight the market or curse the price action. Follow the trend. Stop trying to catch every bottom and top.
From 5,000U to 10,000, then 20,000, then 50,000—none of it came from a miracle. It came from rules, patience, and repetition. The debt was gradually paid off, and life started to have structure again. Those two months weren’t just about him rebuilding; I was rebuilding my own rhythm, too.
Some people say it was luck. I disagree. It was that he finally knew when to stop. Liquidation itself isn’t the scary part. The scary part is hitting zero and still holding on to the same old habits, impulses, and gambling instincts.
Whether it’s crypto or life, turning the page doesn’t mean waiting for the wind to change. It means no longer betting more than 40% of your chips on a passing feeling.
I’ve written about how to set your position size and when to stop at @鑫鹰说财 . If you’re still overdue on payments, wiped out, or thinking of quitting but can’t let go, leave a comment saying how much you have left. I’ll only talk about how to keep your position size under 40%, not whether prices will go up or down tomorrow.
July 5, 2021, 12:18 p.m. The numbers on the screen were wiped away, as if someone had erased my whole self with a rubber. 410,000 yuan in debt came crashing down. My credit card payments were overdue, and there was only one thought left in my head: This is really the end.
I used to run for three hours, eat regular meals, and keep a routine like clockwork. Then I started watching charts all night, barely picking at my food, smoking one cigarette after another, and leaving the curtains closed for days. A collapse is never just about money. You can make up for paper losses, but once you lose heart, you can’t even bring yourself to open the app.
A follower, Xiao Deng, messaged me: “Brother Xinying, I think I’m close to becoming depressed.” I understood. He’d thought about leaving crypto countless times, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give up. Later, he started delivering food and picking up odd jobs, and managed to save 5,000U in two months.
I told him just this: Don’t rush to win it all back. Don’t take oversized positions. Don’t go all in. Don’t let greed take over the mouse. Keep your total exposure under 40%. What’s left isn’t ammo—it’s rent, food, and emergency money. If you’re wrong, cut your losses. Don’t fight the market or curse the price action. Follow the trend. Stop trying to catch every bottom and top.
From 5,000U to 10,000, then 20,000, then 50,000—none of it came from a miracle. It came from rules, patience, and repetition. The debt was gradually paid off, and life started to have structure again. Those two months weren’t just about him rebuilding; I was rebuilding my own rhythm, too.
Some people say it was luck. I disagree. It was that he finally knew when to stop. Liquidation itself isn’t the scary part. The scary part is hitting zero and still holding on to the same old habits, impulses, and gambling instincts.
Whether it’s crypto or life, turning the page doesn’t mean waiting for the wind to change. It means no longer betting more than 40% of your chips on a passing feeling.
I’ve written about how to set your position size and when to stop at @鑫鹰说财 . If you’re still overdue on payments, wiped out, or thinking of quitting but can’t let go, leave a comment saying how much you have left. I’ll only talk about how to keep your position size under 40%, not whether prices will go up or down tomorrow.