At three in the morning, I stared at the liquidation text message and texted my wife: 'How about we sell the car?'
In March 2020, this was my fourth year of full-time cryptocurrency trading. At that time, Ethereum dropped from $2800 to $1700, and my 20x leveraged position felt like an orange thrown into a juicer, leaving nothing behind. The face with dark circles in the bathroom mirror and the worker secretly checking the market in the office five months ago turned out to be the same person.
The cruelest truth in this industry is: when you treat cryptocurrency trading as your main job, your opponent is no longer the market, but your own human nature.
I have seen post-95s quit their jobs to go all in, making enough for a down payment on their hometown home in three months, only to get carried away with 100x leverage, ending up borrowing money even for instant noodles when they were liquidated. I also know programmers who stare at the market for 18 hours a day; they made 2 million in the bull market but ended up with floaters and anxiety, spending all their earnings on therapy.
Let me share some truths you haven't heard:
Full-time cryptocurrency trading is more exhausting than the 996 work culture.
You think you are free? In reality, you are bound by the market 24 hours a day. On the night of Luna's crash last year, I saw someone in the community finish a whole pack of cigarettes in half an hour, rewriting their farewell letter in the chat box multiple times. The real torment is not the moment of liquidation, but the self-doubt that gnaws at you for three months when you panic sell before a surge.
Easy money is the biggest cognitive trap.
Outsiders often fantasize that 'full-time cryptocurrency trading = easy profit', but in reality, the cognitive demands of this industry are brutally high. You need to simultaneously understand macroeconomics (analyzing every little action of the Federal Reserve), sociology (instantly understanding Elon Musk's dog memes), and even physics (the intensity of Shanghai aunties dancing in the square can affect meme coin trends). It took me three years to learn: pretend to be fearful when others are greedy, and be greedy when true fear arises.
The most expensive tuition is not money, but the cost of time.
In 2021, I was obsessed with "scientists" doing on-chain arbitrage and ended up losing 18 ETH to a flash loan attack. It was only later that I understood: the essence of full-time trading is spending money to buy time, while most people squander time for lessons. Those who truly survive in this field have long stopped looking at hourly charts—they use three years to plan for the market, reaping the rewards of a bull market in just three months.
Here are three life-saving tips for those who truly want to go full-time:
① First, set aside six months' living expenses to dollar-cost average into BTC/ETH; consider this money lost. If during this time you can't resist trading contracts or chasing meme coins, you are fundamentally unsuitable for this line of work.
② Force yourself to stay away from screens for 4 hours every day; go to the gym, the vegetable market, or pick up your kids from kindergarten—these places hold the real market sentiment.
③ Find three different comrades: one who can hold your hand when you want to leverage, one who can listen to your complaints at midnight, and one who can wake you up when you're getting carried away.
On the night of my liquidation, after finishing two packs of cigarettes, I suddenly understood: the crypto space has never been a one-person battlefield.
A sword is sharpened over ten years; with these heartfelt words, I hope to guide those who are fated to find the right direction and avoid detours. Trading cryptocurrencies is not difficult; I have never felt tired but instead find joy in it, just like those enthusiasts playing games late at night—how could they say they are tired?