Have you ever been so afraid of losing that you dare not place an order, even though the system has already given a clear entry signal, but you hesitate at the last second: "Wait a moment, what if I’m wrong again this time?" Saying "wait for a clearer signal" is actually just

fear of entering the market and getting a resounding slap in the face.

Watching helplessly as the profits you should have seized slip away right in front of you, you say "stability first," but inside you are as clear as a mirror: this is not stability at all, it’s fear that keeps me outside the market. Livermore said, "I don’t not see the opportunity, I just dare not trust what I see," and at that moment I finally understood: when you lose trust in your own judgment, even the best techniques are just decorations.

Later I realized: true stability is when emotions no longer participate in decision-making. If your "caution" is just to escape fear, that’s not defense, it’s chronic self-destruction. The moving average system that was considered a truth yesterday is worthless today; having strictly followed the stop-loss discipline for a week, I suddenly doubted that it wasn’t all a scam. Running around various trading forums like a headless fly, learning wave theory today, doing arbitrage models tomorrow, trying all methods as if I could try everything.

Until one day, staring at the screen in a daze, I suddenly woke up: where am I really looking for better methods? I am just avoiding the fact that "I am a failure." Blaming the system, blaming the market, but unwilling to admit that it’s my own chaos.

The Tao Te Ching says, "Heavy is the root of light; stillness is the lord of agitation." When your mind is disturbed, what you see is no longer the market, but your own anxiety. During that period, I looked at K-line charts, and every rise and fall seemed to be scolding me, "You’re not good enough," leaving no room for objective analysis.
I finally understood: frequently changing systems is essentially a collapse of faith. In trading, first cultivate the mind, then cultivate the technique. If your mind isn’t well cultivated, no matter how good your system is, you will turn it into trash.

When your account truly loses 30%, your mind is not thinking about "how to control risk," but "I must make it back immediately and let everyone know I am still that formidable trader." So I started over-leveraging, trading frequently, and even delaying stop-losses.

I remember once, the price had clearly broken through the stop-loss level, but I stared at the screen and bet with myself: "Hold on a little longer, maybe it will come back!" As a result, the floating loss turned into a huge loss. At that moment, I finally woke up: I was no longer trading the market, I was fighting my own failure.

The market will never pity "proof-based traders." It’s like a mirror; if you enter with emotions, it will only reflect your ugliest side. I wrote in my notes: once you want to "prove yourself," you must stop. That’s not trading, that’s psychological imbalance. Now I finally understand: losses are not here to punish you; they are here to expose you. They will reveal all the fears, greed, and luck hidden deep in your heart, exposing them to the sunlight.

Now, during every retracement period, I keep reviewing these few blood lessons:
1. Caution born of fear is the most clever form of self-destruction.
2. Frequently changing systems is the exile of the soul.
3. When the thought of "proving oneself" arises, your trading is already dead.
4. The only mission during a loss period: rebuild inner order. Not to recover, but to stand up again.

Many traders don’t fall in the market; they fall in the dark psychological zone after losses. I want to ask you: after your last loss, which transformation are you closer to? Is it the fear that binds your hands and feet, the wandering self-denial, or the murderous proof-seeker?

The answer lies only in your silence.