I deliberately avoided charts and the market for months.
Trading is like driving: sometimes you need to accelerate, sometimes you need to pull over to avoid a crash.
The past few months have proven this.
Bitcoin prices peaked, and a frenzied atmosphere pervaded the market; people traded frantically to "stay in the game."
After two liquidations, I watched helplessly as many friends lost everything—not just money, but also their emotional capital. Some even sold assets to raise funds for a "fight back," only to be liquidated again.
Everyone talks about protecting their financial capital. Almost no one talks about protecting their emotional capital—which is precisely the key to long-term survival in this field.
Trading is 80% psychology and 20% execution.
When your dopamine levels are soaring, your heart is pounding with every candlestick, and your nervous system is in survival mode, you simply cannot trade properly.
A trade requires 3 to 5 decisions.
If your mental state is poor, every decision is like a coin toss; the house always wins.
In Chinese, the pronunciation of "crisis" is similar to "weiji," meaning a crisis: danger + opportunity.
Chaos can indeed bring opportunities, but if you're not stable enough, it can also destroy you. Like any trade, the outcome can be drastically different.
The real advantage lies not in catching every move.
It lies in knowing when to stop, when to observe, and when to return.
Everything has its time.
Like driving, you must know when to accelerate fully, when to coast, and when to brake.
If you don't withdraw in time when you're emotionally down, the market will not only devour your money but also destroy a part of you.
Few people talk about this.
But long-term development is more important than speculation.
Survival is more important than vanity.
Yes, I left the market for a few months.
Some of you noticed and messaged me privately.
Around October, I heard friends were "adding to their long positions," convinced the trend would continue.
A few days later, I heard they had all liquidated their positions.
For me, this addiction was far more severe than missing out on trading opportunities.
Before, unless I was trading, I felt like a zombie. Everything else in life felt meaningless.
Back then, I knew my dopamine receptors had collapsed, and my "FOMO" (fear of missing out) was taking over my life.
I essentially broke free completely, resolutely exiting the market even before Bitcoin had peaked. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made.
Hearing my friends making a fortune while I stood by made me feel weak, useless, and like a loser. But you know, what I resisted most was precisely what I needed most.
Withdrawing wasn't weakness.
It was discipline.
Sometimes, doing nothing is the most profitable strategy.
I believe that temporarily disappearing, protecting my mental state, and returning when the market improves is far better than forcing myself to trade just to appear "active" or maintain a sense of presence.
certainly.







