Today I want to have a heart-to-heart with my brothers and talk about that winter five years ago when I was stripped bare and reshaped. I rarely mention this, but every time I do, it can awaken many friends who are still wandering aimlessly in the market.
I remember it was a deep northern night with temperatures below minus ten degrees. The old, shabby room I rented didn't even have decent heating. I curled up on the old sofa left by the landlord, the sofa cover worn shiny and painful to my bones. The screen of my phone was glaringly bright, that light hitting my face, chilly, like a dull surgical knife, slicing at my nerves.
Just a few hours ago, the crypto market suddenly changed, and the direction I heavily bet on collapsed like an avalanche. I watched helplessly as the balance in my digital wallet dropped from six figures, the red drop numbers made my hands shake, and finally, with a 'clang', it froze at a negative number.
Negative numbers, brothers! That is not a string of cold digits; it's the savings I've accumulated over several years, the turnover money I've borrowed from friends, and even the rent and food money planned for next month.
In the following days, I lived like a walking dead. The first thing I did every day when I opened my eyes was to check my phone for price curves, and after that, I would collapse on the bed in a daze. Instant noodle boxes piled up in the corner into a small mountain, takeout bags littered everywhere, the room filled with a mix of smoke and moldy smells, creating a desolate atmosphere. Doors and windows tightly shut, thick curtains drawn, unable to distinguish day from night, too lazy to wash my face or brush my teeth, just enduring it, feeling like life would be like this.
Until one morning at 4 AM, I was so hungry that I got up to find something to eat. I pushed aside a corner of the curtain, and outside, fine snow was falling, the snowflakes drifting slowly, eerily quiet. I inexplicably flipped through my trading records from three months ago and suddenly saw a tiny pullback that I had completely ignored.
It was that tiny signal, so small that it could not be smaller. At that time, I thought, 'It's okay, just a small fluctuation,' and didn't take it seriously. But this detail became the fuse that led to the later disaster.
I suddenly woke up, and I slapped myself hard. This is not bad luck at all! This is my own fault! I knew nothing about market sentiment, was completely ignorant of cyclical patterns, and dared to go all in with sheer willpower! The digital asset market has never shown mercy to tears; it only recognizes strength and respects those who are prepared.
That morning, I cleaned all the trash in the room, took a hot shower, looked at my scruffy self in the mirror and said, 'Start over.'
I gritted my teeth and used the last remaining credit limit to gather a pitiful small amount of money and re-entered the market. At the same time, I set four iron rules for myself, wrote them on sticky notes, and posted them on my computer screen, so I could see them every day, whether I opened my eyes or closed them:
Only use 5% of total assets to test each time, never invest more;
Before any operation, set your exit point first, leave when the time comes, and never hesitate.
For each mistake, I must write a 300-word reflection, and if I can't clarify the problem, I'm not allowed to trade again.
No more than two trades a day, more than that counts as a violation.
In the next six months, I lived almost among piles of data. I no longer just stared at the K-line charts to watch for rises and falls but dove into on-chain data, community sentiment, and macro trends. While others stayed up late chasing hot topics and listening to rumors, I was analyzing project white papers; while others flaunted profit screenshots, I was organizing my loss notes.
Slowly, it seems I've understood the humanity behind the numbers — the greed hidden in sudden surges, the fear wrapped in cliff-like drops, all flowing quietly in the code of 0s and 1s.
In the past six months, I've exchanged blood and tears for four survival rules, which I share with you today, especially for the brothers still stepping into pits in the market:
Trends are king: only participate in projects that are above the medium-term life line, don't hold onto continuously declining assets waiting for a rebound. In the crypto world, going with the trend is not just a slogan; it's a lifeline that can keep you alive.
Positions should be like onions: discover opportunities and first send 'scouts' (small positions for trial and error), and once the fundamentals, technicals, and sentiment are validated, then deploy the 'main forces' (increase positions). Always leave a retreat for unexpected situations; going all in is just giving money to the market.
Stop loss is a talisman: if the loss exceeds 3% in a single trade, you must leave immediately, and if the daily pullback exceeds 5%, force yourself to stop and rest. Remember, in this market, surviving is the only way to wait for the next spring.
Signal needs multi-factor validation: don't trust a single indicator, act only when at least three dimensions point in the same direction. The crypto market never sleeps, patience is not weakness, but the scarcest resource for making money.
After enduring for half a year, my account numbers finally returned to a healthy range. But what truly reassured me was not that the money came back, but that my mindset changed. I was no longer led around by the rises and falls, no longer ecstatic over a profit, nor collapsing over a loss, but learned to accurately capture the truly useful essential signals amidst a pile of noise.
A few days ago, I had dinner with a friend in the circle, and she, with red eyes, told me that during last year's market frenzy, she went all in on a new project. Later, when the price fell below a key position, she clearly knew she should stop loss but kept comforting herself that 'this time is different,' always thinking the next moment would reverse. What was the result? She lost everything and returned all the money she had earned over the years.
Her words hit me directly. Brothers, are you also like this? You understand the reasoning, but when it comes to that moment, you soften your heart, take chances, and can't make the move?
But the market is a cure for all forms of dissatisfaction. It won't go easy on you just because you have a high degree or a strong background; it won't give you a chance to reverse just because you cried or felt unwilling. It's like a stern teacher, only looking at whether you can learn, change, and follow the rules.
You are willing to bow down and treat each loss as a textbook to learn from; you are willing to admit your mistakes, not make excuses or get stuck in a corner; you are willing to treat the rules you set as a bottom line, never making exceptions — the market will eventually reward you.
Only now do I understand that true wealth is not the numbers in the account. It's the insights refined through repeated market education, the composure cultivated. When you no longer see the crypto market as a casino, no longer think of getting rich overnight, but as a classroom that requires lifelong learning, you've already won over most people.
Five years ago, on a night when the temperature was below minus ten degrees, I lost everything. But today, five years later, I am grateful that the crash came early and swiftly. It shattered my complacency and forced me to awaken.
If you're currently in a losing low, don't panic, don't escape, and don't stubbornly hold on. First, stop and see what your problem is. The market is always there, opportunities are always there; as long as you're willing to learn and change, you'll always have a chance to turn things around.
Let's chat in the comments, have you ever had those trading moments where you understand the theory but just can't execute? What was the worst pit you fell into? See you in the comments!