I was born in 1991, a housewife who once thought I could change my destiny by 'trading cryptocurrencies'.
Now at 34, divorced, with a debt of 700,000, hiding with my child at my parents' house, I finally understand: all the 'get rich quick dreams' bestowed by fate have long been marked with a price.
I. The 'Wealth Code' Discovered During Pregnancy: The Fall from Altcoins to Contracts
When I was pregnant in 2020, my life should have been stable—I didn't need to work and could live comfortably on my husband's institutional income (150,000 annual salary) and pre-marriage savings (290,000). Until I frequently saw posts from my cousin about trading cryptocurrencies: 'Earned another 600,000!' 'Bitcoin is skyrocketing!'
At first, I thought it was just an advertisement, until one day in a conversation my cousin casually mentioned that 'the money made from trading cryptocurrencies is enough to buy a house,' and my heart began to itch. She reminded me, 'Don't touch contracts, don't touch altcoins,' but how could I listen?
At first, I only dared to buy altcoins, making a few thousand in a month. But the word 'stop' never appeared in my dictionary—I wanted to turn losses into profits and wanted more when I won. Later, I heard that contracts could 'bet small to win big,' and I completely fell into it: opening a short with 10,000 USD at 5x leverage, only to be wiped out by a rebound; cautiously operating with 30,000 USD, but always being 'targeted' by the market (shorting when it rises, going long when it falls); on an afternoon in August 2020, I stared at my phone waiting for continuous liquidation notices, and my 290,000 savings were completely wiped out.
II. The Abyss of Borrowing to Pay Off Debt: From Funds to Online Loans, the Deeper the Trap, the Crazier It Gets
Having lost the principal, I didn't dare to tell my husband, but I was still unwilling to accept it. Hearing relatives say that funds were 'guaranteed to make money,' I borrowed 150,000 to enter the market, only to lose hundreds or thousands every day, which made me panic again—redeeming the funds and rushing back into contracts.
In May 2021, my online loan debt reached 320,000: 64,000 limit from China Merchants Bank and loans from several platforms. I didn't want to hold on any longer and could only rely on my husband. Since I had a child, I thought he would just scold me a few times and not divorce me. As expected, my husband forgave me.
He borrowed money for me everywhere; my in-laws gave 120,000, and with other loans, we finally managed. In fact, he had a good income, being in the system, with an annual comprehensive salary of 150,000. He told me that as long as I didn't touch it again, things would definitely get better in the future. My husband usually just liked to drink a little, didn't smoke or gamble. Occasionally when we went shopping, I was the one who liked to spend a few bucks on scratch cards for fun. Sometimes I didn't even understand why a woman like me had such a strong gambling instinct.
Good days didn't last long; how could I be content to live a 'stable life'? Without money, there’s no sense of security—I had enough of the days when Yu'ebao brought in just a few bucks in interest every day. In 2022, my mother-in-law was idle at home; she suggested helping me take care of the child, so I could go out and find a job. I hadn't worked since getting married; she might have said it casually, but I felt looked down upon, and my gambling instincts were fully ignited: 'Without money, you'll be trampled on!'
III. Marriage Breakdown: Selling the House, Protecting Myself, and Divorce
At first, I didn't dare to play big; I started with a few hundred dollars, making a little and selling immediately. Gradually, my greed grew, only accepting wins and unable to tolerate losses. Just losing a little made me crazily increase leverage to earn it back, making me feel much better. Although this is a contract, it's essentially the same as gambling, and even more ferocious than that.
In August 2023, I couldn't hold on to the days of borrowing to pay off loans anymore—borrowing online loans to pay friends, borrowing from friends to pay online loans, with the principal all going into the pockets of the house edge. In December, the debt soared to 580,000, with online loan interest gnawing at the last bit of principal. I bought charcoal on Pinduoduo, wanting to leave with my child, but I never had the courage.
That day, I had never seen him drink so fast and so much. After drinking, he said, let's get a divorce; he felt I was hopeless, treating money recklessly, and if this continued, we wouldn't even be able to keep the house. I agreed to bear all the debts myself. But he ultimately softened; in April 2024, he sold the house his mother gave him after our marriage (850,000) and locked the remaining money in a card without online banking to prevent me from stealing it.
'Even buying hand cream requires reporting, sending screenshots to him to transfer money'—this kind of life suffocated me. As a housewife, what I wanted was not money, but the dignity of being respected. But his defenses were like a thorn; the more I wanted to prove myself, the more I couldn't control my hands—opening the trading software again, the result was still a loss.
From that time until the end of last year, my debt reached its peak again, already at 610,000. During this period, I also borrowed 160,000 from my parents for other reasons, totaling at least a 700,000 loss. Unable to confess, I could only return to my hometown with my child and confess to my parents, but they also couldn't help me.
IV. The Awakening After Divorce: Seeking Stability for the Rest of My Life
This year, I finally finalized my divorce. My husband left without looking back, while I hid in the room, afraid to go out—relatives and friends knew about my debt, and neighbors pointed fingers.
My parents advised me: 'First go out and earn money, the rest can be discussed later.' I began to reflect: if I had listened to my cousin back then and honestly bought Bitcoin (which has multiplied in price now), perhaps I wouldn't have lost so much; if I had stopped earlier, my marriage and family would not have fallen apart.
Now, my biggest wish is to find a job and work steadily. If I have the ability in the future, I want to repay the money I owe my ex-husband; if I can't, then forget it. As for love, I don't dare to touch it again—this fall was too painful, and I finally understood: the 'get rich quick dream' of fate always comes with a price.
Written at the end:
I am not the protagonist of this story, but just one of the millions of ordinary people obsessed with the 'get rich quick myth.' I want to tell everyone still struggling in the gambling game: don't believe in 'turning the tables overnight,' and don't gamble your family's trust for tomorrow. A stable life may be ordinary, but it is a blessing that many people seek but cannot attain.