The recent biggest factor affecting sleep isn’t actually how much I’ve lost—it’s the sense of presence from having “floating losses hanging there.” I usually treat floating gains as if I didn’t see them; in my head I’m like, “Anyway, I might not be able to cash out.” But once I have a floating loss, my brain automatically starts a little play: I’m afraid it’ll keep expanding, afraid I might’ve misjudged. Even though it hasn’t been realized yet, my heart rate is the first thing to “realize”… In short, it’s loss aversion—the pain of losing feels stickier than the pleasure of winning.

Now I force myself to look at it using probability: given the current volatility and depth, what are the chances that this position will go down further—and can I accept the “worst-case script”? If I can accept it, I won’t keep refreshing it in the middle of the night. If I can’t, I’ll adjust/reduce my position early—don’t stubbornly hold on while I’m fighting the emotions.

By the way, the Layer2 crowd argues every day about TPS, fees, and subsidies—there’s quite a lot of noise—but for me, I still come back to those specific ledgers in my own head: whether the fee rate is enough to cover volatility, and whether liquidity might suddenly be moved elsewhere. The noise is theirs; I just try to make sure I can manage to sleep.