#我的币圈搞笑瞬间

“From Green Dreams to Red Nights A Crypto Love Story Written in Loss, Hope, and Unfinished Belief”

At this point, my relationship with crypto is not trading anymore it’s trauma bonding.
I didn’t lose money in one big crash. No. That would have been merciful. I lost it slowly, candle by candle, like the market wanted me to feel every dollar leaving my wallet. Each red candle wasn’t just a loss it was a reminder that hope is very expensive in this business.
I remember the first time I doubled my money on paper. I felt unstoppable. I calculated future profits in my head like they were already mine. I silently picked colors for a car I hadn’t earned yet. That was the moment crypto decided to teach me humility with interest.
What followed was a masterpiece of suffering:
Hope → Confidence → Overconfidence → Panic → Acceptance → Repeat.
I held through drops that would give normal people heart attacks. I watched my unrealized profits turn into unrealized dreams. I told myself, “It’s not a loss until you sell,” and then still somehow managed to sell at the worst possible moment like it was my hidden talent.
The market took my money, but worse it took my peace.
I started checking charts before brushing my teeth.
I refreshed prices like they were life support.
Every notification made my heart race: Was it a pump… or another lesson?
Friends would talk about vacations and plans.
I would calculate how much I could’ve had “if I just sold earlier.”
Some nights, I didn’t even feel angry anymore. Just quiet. That dangerous kind of quiet where you stop expecting the market to be kind to you. Where you enter trades not with excitement, but with resignation like a soldier going back to a battlefield he already knows too well.
And yet… the most confusing part?
After all of that after the losses, the liquidations, the broken plans I’m still here.
Still watching the charts.
Still feeling something when green candles appear.
Still believing, in a broken, cautious, tired way.
Because every trader who survives long enough carries the same secret inside them:
That one day, one cycle, one bull run might finally apologize for everything the bear market did.
Maybe not with a Lambo.
Maybe not with instant riches.
But with a moment where the balance is green again… and the heart finally feels light instead of heavy.
Until that day, I’ll keep showing up.
Not because I’m fearless but because I’ve already been through the worst parts.
The market may have taken my money.
It may have taken my sleep.
It may have taken my innocence as a beginner.
But it hasn’t taken the quiet hope that whispers:
“Maybe next cycle… it will finally be different.”
And if it’s not?
Then at least I’ll say this I fought the market, I lost many rounds, but I didn’t disappear. I stayed.
I learned. I endured.
And in crypto… sometimes survival itself is already a rare kind of profit.