I only realized, right at the end when I fully liquidated, that the game’s most hidden leverage isn’t on the charts at all—it’s built into my own life.

I thought I was just placing a few trades; but without realizing it, I had pledged those solid days, my parents’ hopes, and even the tears I let fall—all as collateral. The candlesticks warped my dopamine threshold, numbing me to every ordinary warmth in reality. In the end, the Federal Reserve released hawkish signals, and my dreams shattered across the floor. When I turned around, I could barely catch the concern my parents were offering. I always thought I was battling the market makers; in truth, I was just a madman—using the most sincere feelings in the world to exchange for a pile of hollow bubbles. The moment I shifted the center of my life onto the charts, I had already lost.