After ten years of fierce battles, I finally understand that exam paper

The cryptocurrency world is not a battlefield, but a high-precision CT scanner — it first scans your personality flaws, then uses candlestick charts to turn flaws into multiple-choice questions, with scores directly credited to your account.

The first time I opened a contract, I went all in on a long position, and when I woke up, I was six figures in debt. A friend comforted me, saying "the market makers crashed it," but I saw my own greed: treating luck as skill, treating leverage as a printing machine.

The second time I chased the hype, a message in the Telegram group about an "epic bullish news" pulled me to the top of the mountain, only to drop 40% in three minutes. I cursed the project team for being too quick with the scythe, yet I reflected my own impatience: only wanting to double my money, not wanting to study.

The third time in a bear market, I averaged down on a scam token from $1 to $0.05, ultimately selling at the floor. At that moment, I finally admitted: it was my arrogance, firmly believing that "value will always return," but forgetting that the market is always right.

It turns out that each time I get liquidated, miss a rally, or get liquidated at the wrong moment, fate is handing out the exam paper again, always targeting that soft rib of yours:

"Cut losses or hold on?" — testing discipline;

"Take profit on good news or not?" — testing contentment;

"Sell below cost or not?" — testing the ability to admit mistakes.

Get one question wrong, and it hands you a different paper with different numbers to retake; if you can’t learn to cut losses, you’ll lose five times; if you can’t shake off FOMO, you’ll draw a big green candle every two weeks to deceive yourself.

The market doesn’t speak, only coldly reminds you with repetition: if you don’t change your personality, your balance won’t return.

After realizing this, I dragged my trading software to the second screen and placed Obsidian on the first screen, with a file name of just two words: Mistakes Notebook.

Is discipline leaking? Write down the stop-loss price before opening a position, and execute at market price once triggered, never giving your finger a second chance.

Is greed taking over? Force yourself to withdraw the principal after a 30% profit; any profits made thereafter are none of my concern.

Is arrogance at play? Write a 300-word review for every trade and post it on Twitter, letting the timeline slap me in the face.

Three months later, the number of liquidations dropped from once a month to once a season; six months later, it simply stopped happening. It’s not that the market has become gentler, but that I have made my mistakes notebook thinner.

If you too find yourself staring blankly at a deficit late at night, don’t rush to curse the market makers; first, open the candlestick chart and ask yourself:

Is this loss just another mistake on the same personality question?

Fate is the best teacher, with tuition priced in USDT; if you can’t pass, you’ll keep paying until you give a new answer. @小花生说币