When I first got into the market, I’d only seen screenshots of other people showing off their profits. Watching their account balances double in just a few days made my blood rush. I thought this was a way to turn my life around quickly. I put in the savings I’d spent ages building up, without doing any research at all. I just bought whatever people in the group were talking about, thinking I’d caught the next big trend.
At first, I got lucky. One of the coins I bought surged, and my account suddenly showed a sizable unrealized profit. For those few days, I was walking on air. I thought I was a natural at this and started dreaming of changing my circumstances through trading. I even wondered whether I should put in more. I didn’t take profits because I couldn’t bear to cash out; I kept thinking the market could climb even higher.
The reversal came quickly. A sudden plunge sent the market into a sharp downturn. My gains were gradually wiped out, and soon I was sitting on unrealized losses. I couldn’t accept losing money, so I kept telling myself it was just a pullback and that if I held on, prices would recover. The more it fell, the more I bought, hoping to lower my average cost. Before I knew it, I was heavily invested. I couldn’t sleep at night, staring at the charts until the early hours. A slight rebound filled me with hope, but every drop made my stomach knot up.
During that time, my emotions were completely at the mercy of the candlesticks. I watched the charts while eating and thought about prices while trying to get things done. Whenever someone mentioned some news, I’d panic and adjust my positions. I traded back and forth constantly, and fees quietly ate away at a lot of my funds. Now and then, I’d catch a small rebound and make a little, only to hand it all back to the market with my next round of reckless trades.
Then came a sudden, brutal crash. My heavily leveraged position hit its stop-loss, and I lost more than half my principal just like that. I stared at my account in silence for a long time that day. It took that devastating blow for me to slowly regain my composure and stop fantasizing about getting rich overnight.
After that, I started taking time to review my trades and gradually learned about position sizing, stop-losses, and trends. I stopped jumping at every opportunity and learned to wait on the sidelines, trading only when I understood what was happening. I stopped betting everything on one trade and began splitting up my funds. If I was wrong, I’d exit decisively instead of stubbornly holding on. I’ve seen all kinds of people: some get rich for a moment and then quickly lose it all; some shout out trade signals every day but never show their actual trades; and others quietly trade according to their own rules.
I used to be obsessed with finding a coin that would rise tenfold, always hoping to catch one big move and make it. It’s taken me a long time to understand that the hardest thing in this market has never been making money once—it’s staying in the game for the long haul.
At first, I got lucky. One of the coins I bought surged, and my account suddenly showed a sizable unrealized profit. For those few days, I was walking on air. I thought I was a natural at this and started dreaming of changing my circumstances through trading. I even wondered whether I should put in more. I didn’t take profits because I couldn’t bear to cash out; I kept thinking the market could climb even higher.
The reversal came quickly. A sudden plunge sent the market into a sharp downturn. My gains were gradually wiped out, and soon I was sitting on unrealized losses. I couldn’t accept losing money, so I kept telling myself it was just a pullback and that if I held on, prices would recover. The more it fell, the more I bought, hoping to lower my average cost. Before I knew it, I was heavily invested. I couldn’t sleep at night, staring at the charts until the early hours. A slight rebound filled me with hope, but every drop made my stomach knot up.
During that time, my emotions were completely at the mercy of the candlesticks. I watched the charts while eating and thought about prices while trying to get things done. Whenever someone mentioned some news, I’d panic and adjust my positions. I traded back and forth constantly, and fees quietly ate away at a lot of my funds. Now and then, I’d catch a small rebound and make a little, only to hand it all back to the market with my next round of reckless trades.
Then came a sudden, brutal crash. My heavily leveraged position hit its stop-loss, and I lost more than half my principal just like that. I stared at my account in silence for a long time that day. It took that devastating blow for me to slowly regain my composure and stop fantasizing about getting rich overnight.
After that, I started taking time to review my trades and gradually learned about position sizing, stop-losses, and trends. I stopped jumping at every opportunity and learned to wait on the sidelines, trading only when I understood what was happening. I stopped betting everything on one trade and began splitting up my funds. If I was wrong, I’d exit decisively instead of stubbornly holding on. I’ve seen all kinds of people: some get rich for a moment and then quickly lose it all; some shout out trade signals every day but never show their actual trades; and others quietly trade according to their own rules.
I used to be obsessed with finding a coin that would rise tenfold, always hoping to catch one big move and make it. It’s taken me a long time to understand that the hardest thing in this market has never been making money once—it’s staying in the game for the long haul.
