“200,000, just like that?” That day I stared at my account, my mind blank.
That was the principal I had saved for three whole years, cutting back on gatherings, traveling less, saving wherever I could, only to have it all vanish in a sudden market reversal.
In that moment, it wasn't heartbreak, it was confusion. Like someone suddenly pressed the pause button on me.
After it blew up, I did something quite cowardly—I deleted all trading apps,
locked myself in my room for half a month,
saw no one, and got annoyed every time my phone rang.
By day I pretended nothing was wrong,
but at night I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
The only question looping in my mind was:
“Is this really how my life is going to end?”
To say I wasn't frustrated would be a lie.
Having read so many stories,
feeling like I understood “a bit more than others,”
how did I end up being the one taken by the market?
During that half month, I didn't look at the market,
but I combed through my previous trading records.
I reviewed each trade one by one, becoming calmer as I went.
I realized that what crushed me wasn't that market event,
but a series of previous “confidences”:
the positions kept getting bigger, stop losses were pushed further back,
knowing full well I shouldn't, yet always thinking “just a little longer.”
It wasn't the market's cruelty; it was me handing over my fate.
Later I returned, and the first thing I did wasn't to find a strategy,
but to set rules for myself:
no heavy positions, no betting on direction, no relying on feelings.
I would rather miss out than charge recklessly;
I would rather earn slowly than go all in again.
Gradually, my account stopped fluctuating wildly,
but each step was taken firmly.
