During that time, I was carrying a debt of 200,000.
It's not a joke, nor a story from a screenshot; it's the kind of pressure where every morning I would calculate the interest.
There was only 1,000 left in the account; to be honest, it couldn't solve any real-life issues.
I couldn't turn it around, and it wasn't enough to make a big mistake again.
Instead, I became calm.
Because I was no longer qualified to gamble.
After that, I set a strict rule for myself:
This 1,000 is not to be doubled; it is to prove whether I can still maintain discipline.
No frequent trading, no touching things I don't understand, no increasing my stake just because of a single win.
Sometimes, I wouldn't place an order for days; I would just watch the market, record notes, and review.
Earnings were slow, but losses were even slower.
The hardest part wasn't the market, but the patience.
Resisting the urge to “recover all at once,”
Resisting the anxiety when seeing others' screenshots of skyrocketing profits,
Resisting the bitterness of feeling that I had “missed out.”
The account slowly climbed up.
There were no miracles, nor any single trade that changed my fate.
Just a series of small probabilities stacking together, the curve slowly rising.
Later, when the market improved, I still didn’t go all in.
When the account could finally cover some real-life pressures for the first time, I chose to take profits, pay off debts, and reduce risks, rather than continue to increase my position.
Looking back, that 1,000 was not a lifesaving amount.
What truly saved me was:
In the most desperate times, I finally stopped betting against the market.
The debt is still there, but the rhythm has changed.
I no longer fantasize about “getting back on track at once,” but I have determined one thing:
As long as I don’t act recklessly, time will be on the side of discipline.
The cryptocurrency market won’t pay off anyone’s debts,
But it will magnify every type of character.
I am very grateful that, that time, it did not magnify greed.
