Since stepping into the crypto world, life feels like being thrown into an endless whirlpool. Every day, even before my eyes are fully open, my hand reaches for my phone to check the market page. When BTC's Candlestick goes up by half a point, my heart races a bit faster; when the green bars dip down a bit, I have to hold my breath. When excited, it feels like carrying a ball of fire, and when anxious, it feels like pressing down on a block of ice. These emotions have long become an inseparable shadow, as routine as my three meals a day.
When I first entered, I was no different from most people, my mind was filled with the illusion of "financial freedom," unaware of the dangers lurking in this market. On the day I first faced liquidation, the moment the numbers on the screen turned red, I froze, as if all my strength had been drained away, not even having the energy to curse. However, the stubbornness in my heart never faded; I clung to the Candlestick chart and studied late into the night, dissecting the indicators one by one, reviewing past market trends repeatedly, taking note of every mistake, and learning a lesson every time I felt pain.
What truly made me "grow up" were two heart-wrenching beatings. During that bear market in 2018, watching the numbers in my account shrink day by day felt like being cut with a dull knife, painfully slow but excruciating; the "519" crash in 2021 was even harsher, with panic flooding the market like a tide, even seasoned players were trembling. But it was during these two times that I was forced to learn how to crawl out of the mud—how to control my positions steadily, where to draw my stop-loss line sharply, and most importantly, when everyone else was panicking, how to keep my hands steady and spot the hidden opportunities amidst the chaos.
Later, the earnings could steadily cover my living expenses, so I simply quit my job and became a full-time person watching the Candlestick. At first, it was wonderful; I didn't have to clock in, didn't have to see my boss's expression, and was as free as a bird just out of a cage. But as time went on, I realized that this freedom comes at a cost — every fluctuation during the opening must be shouldered by myself; if I judged the direction wrong, there wasn't even anyone to say a comforting word to me. Loneliness is like the water in a cup, accumulating day by day, slowly filling up.
I used to love talking about the market trends in my social circle, telling people where to buy and where to run, thinking I was giving good-hearted advice. Until one time, a friend told me that after listening to my analysis, he added leverage and ended up getting liquidated, owing money. That day, I stared at my phone screen, unable to speak for a long time. After that, I completely stopped talking—this market is ultimately a gamble; some people make money while others lose. Money flows from one pocket to another, and behind it all is someone else's hard work. How could I dare to be that "guiding person" again? If I pointed someone in the wrong direction, wouldn't that make me the one pushing them into the water?
Now I've finally grasped some principles: real trading is never just a gamble on a single bet. In my system, the word "stability" comes first. I'm not seeking to get rich overnight; I just want each trade to stand on the side of a high probability. The win rate remains steadily above 70% year-round, which may seem slow, but the account curve resembles climbing stairs, steadily progressing upward step by step. When facing the screen, my mind has also become more composed; when it rises, I don't get carried away, and when it falls, I don't panic.
The road in the crypto world is destined to be walked alone. But as long as you can endure the hardships, withstand the loneliness, and stay true to your heart, you will always find your own way. Just don't forget, this market is always deeper than you think; a little more respect will give you a little more confidence to live longer. #十二月降息预测 #XRP今日交易价格如何? #参与创作者认证计划月领$10,000 #现货ETF获批新进展 #ASTER宣布销毁50%回购代币