“…As the infection settled deep in the patient’s bones, killing the flesh, necrotizing the bone. The smell overwhelmingly rotten, the air putrid with death. It is apparent that the only way to save the patient from total consumption is amputation.”
Have you ever witnessed decay? Before it becomes a uniform of black dried out flesh and shriveled dead skin. When it’s raspy as winter, hollow as wood. There’s a process it goes through. Raw, pink tissues underlying the skin, exposed and pus-filled. Some black, some beet red, some yellow and green with blisters. It never looks pretty. It is sad and disgusting and ultimately horrifying. The ordeal can be excruciatingly long, taking its bloody time to gnaw. Even with modern day science, the turn-out can be dismal, especially for those who have co-morbidities like diabetes. The antibiotics can never work fast enough, and a variety of medicine, both new and old will be tried, hoping for some recovery.
Maggots on the wound. Pig collagen on top. Dressing changed every 8 hours. Hydrogels. Iodosorb. Manuka honey of all shapes and forms. Silver bandage. Alginate. Algivon. Gauze with petroleum or cured with iodine. Each costing thousands, and it has to be re-done every single day.
In the end, in some cases, amputation is the only choice left if we were to save the rest of the limb from the spreading nightmare. Otherwise it gets worse and it gets painful.
Imagine if human beings had the ability to regrow that limb, would it still be a question? Would we cut it as easily as hair after a heart break? All it would take is rehabilitation, rest, willpower, nutrition. What if we can leave it infected, leave it amputated, or do we grow it back?
I know what you would pick, because I’d pick it too. I’d fight like hell to get my leg back, I would regimen myself and discipline myself, and wouldn’t eat sisig because it’s BAD for my health. I’d suffer now so I can run again later. I’d do it. Anything. Tell me and I will.
So the question is, why do you leave your port with the infestation of death lurking and gnawing until you have nothing left behind? Redder and deeper and angrier it goes. Inflamed skin. Pus-filled. Market openings don’t excite you, it SCARES you. Because it can hurt again, more than you thought it can.
And it will.
In one fell swoop, it was over. It was agonizing, the memory gutting on you, the consequences real and undeniable. Right in front of your eyes, the money you worked hard for, gone.
Just a few buttons, a deep breath, and it’s gone. It can take as short as a few minutes to a few hours.
But atleast it’s over. Whatever you gave permission to torment you, you have slapped its offending hand, and declared no longer. No longer.
Tomorrow, you can rest. Free at last. Rest because there’s more work to be done.
Purging does not end with clearing your port, cutting your losses, and having a good time away from the market. There is something much more important for you to do to ensure it never happens again.
GET. OFF. TRADING. GROUPS.
Get out of that facebook chat group.
Get out of that trading community hype group.
That “learning” group where everyone is “free” to share charts.
One day, you can return, be immune to all their noise but for now they ARE the enemy. This is the stock market, did you forget? It’s a zero-sum game. You don’t even know what’s right and wrong yet, you’ve already suffered the consequences for that. Or are you trying to commit the same mistakes again? For good measure?
Everyone else is trying to make a living, if you don’t know yet, it can be off off you too.
Not Just from Enemy Lines
You have to know yourself and strike a balance between having an accountability group and a hype/dump group. The honest truth is, I can’t even look at anyone in the face and say another person’s opinion on my trade plan will not affect my confidence. His doubt will creep into mine. His confidence in his trade plan will too.
ZFT don’t give out stock recommendations but inside the tribe chat, there lies another ball game I have to learn to manage on my own. Quietly exiting during the days they asked the participants to be more active, I excused myself and said I couldn’t keep up with it. My work was in the way.
Months had passed since then. I went home, I had my own rhythm in the market. I missed being in touch with them.
So a few weeks ago, I was added back out of my own volition. This was during the first monster move of what we now know as series of PXP trades. I had a great base and in that day the rally amounted to almost 30% at its peak. I was flabbergasted, I made good money! Much more than I’ve done in a single day before. Suffice to say, I was excited about it.
Over the weekend, I revisited my plan. I was going to monitor the minutes for my exit. Monday morning, I did as I was supposed to do, but with the volume I was holding– something I was not used to, with the amount of profits I’m still learning to familiarize with.
I sold too early.
The price kept rocketing. At that moment, the small wedgy sound of Skype kept playing on my screen along with the messages it contained.
“Congrats PXP holders! Woooo”
Still Affected by the Noise
They hinted about it getting to 10. I knew it was entirely possible, and if it does, then who’s to say what could happen? I felt the tinge of annoyance build inside of me, growing as the price escalate. I was no longer a PXP holder, and even if I did make money out of it, I could have made more.
I couldn’t sit properly. I was still half-asleep then, partly because of my messed up sleeping habits, so I tried to roll around my mattress to get the feeling off my chest.
It wouldn’t stop. The noise. The messages. The euphoria.
I tried to ignore it but it was impossible.
I couldn’t think. I know I could still re-enter but the noise, what qualifies to me as such, is there. Present. Toying with my rational thinking. Instead, I was beginning to get consumed by my own greed and fear. I didn’t want to miss out on this cash cow. I was angry at myself for selling too quick. No matter how much I tried to appease myself that it was okay, I made more than enough, that I should be happy. It wouldn’t work. I kept hearing that wedgy Skype sound and it pestered on my mistake.
The next minute, I got up and decided to exit the application.
The overwhelming silence of my room gave a wash of relief the moment I did. There I sat, watched again, bought again.
At the end of the day, I bagged more profits.
“If You Want To Go Fast, Go Alone.”
Be alone until you have enough knowledge to discern what is right or wrong for you.
“If You Want To Go Far, Go Together.”
And when you are ready, you can always return.
After I sold PXP, I turned my Skype back on. I’ve back read what the tribe members are up to, and laughed at their jokes.
Noise can be inside of your head, those losses tugging on your fear and greed every trade execution you make.
Noise can also be random people from the internet who– are strangers really– but claims to know what is best for you to do.
But not all of them are from wolves who wanted nothing but their own personal profit off your mistakes and naivete. Noise can also come from your friends, your batch mates, or even in an elite trading group who made no recommendations to one another.
It can be from feeling left out while others did well. It can be as simple as overhearing congratulations for another person while you couldn’t even make one simple winning trade the entire time. It can be from people who didn’t want to harm you, it can be anything that could make you an emotional trader. Anything. That is noise.
One day, it may no longer bother you anymore. When you’ve confidently survived periods of losses, and recovered with periods of wins. Again and again until you’ve built a sense of security in yourself and your skills.
Know yourself and trade according to who you are. At the end of the day, it is your money, your trading plan, your personal end-game.
I cheered for their wins too, but quietly on my own, in my little corner of my room.
H a p p y b e a t s ♥