Discipline is the foundation of survival

At the end of 2017, during the tail end of the bull market, I took out the 5000U I had saved up for a long time and nervously entered the crypto world. How crazy was the market atmosphere back then? The air was filled with the magic of "getting rich overnight." I watched helplessly as an old buddy doubled his position in a single day on a contract, posting his wins proudly on social media. But within a few days, a waterfall decline in the early morning wiped out his position, resulting in liquidation and account closure.

Fast forward to 2025. Seven years have passed, and the market has experienced three cycles of bull and bear markets, witnessing the collapse of LUNA and the downfall of FTX. The group of people who entered together back then? Now, only a few are still around. And what about my initial 5000U? It’s grown like a snowball into a seven-figure sum. But that’s not the most important part — my maximum drawdown has never exceeded 8%.

This isn’t because I have some divine prediction ability. Honestly, it’s just three "cold-blooded" survival disciplines hammered out with real money. Today, I lay them all out.

**Discipline One: Unrealized gains are not your money; only withdrawals count**

The most deadly illusion in crypto is fixating on the constantly changing account balance. I’ve seen too many stories like this: earning 20% and wanting to double, making 50% and pondering how to hit 100%, only to be hit by a reverse market that instantly vaporizes all paper wealth.

My rule is simple and brutal — at the moment of opening a position, the take-profit and stop-loss plan must be set in stone. Once profits reach 10%, I immediately withdraw half of it to a cold wallet. From that moment on, this money becomes an "absolutely safe asset." No matter how the market fluctuates afterward, no matter how tempting, I won’t touch it with my fingers.

What about the remaining half of the profit? That’s the "zero-cost ammunition." I keep rolling it over. If I win, it’s great — profits hit new highs; if I lose, it’s okay — I’m losing only the money I earned, not touching the principal at all.

This logic has persisted for seven years. I’ve withdrawn a total of 37 times. During the peak bull market in 2021, I withdrew several times in just one week, each time securing part of the profit.

**Discipline Two: Position size is determined by risk tolerance, not market hype**

"The coin is too hot, I must go all-in." That’s the most suicidal comment I’ve heard.

My approach is exactly the opposite. The size of each trade is based on the question: "If I lose all this money, can I still handle it?" For example, if my maximum tolerable loss per trade is 2% of my account, then my position size will never exceed that risk limit.

Does this sound conservative? It is. But because of this conservatism, I haven’t experienced forced liquidation in any market cycle since 2017. Nor have I faced a moment where my principal was seriously damaged.

**Discipline Three: Every market has two extremes; greedy people only see one**

Crypto market volatility is often ten times more intense than other markets. Every rally is accompanied by voices saying "This time is different," and every decline is met with "There’s no hope anymore."

What I’ve learned is: always leave yourself an escape route. No matter how bullish the market, I keep some funds outside the market. No matter how bearish, I keep some positions open and don’t fully exit.

What’s the benefit? If the market surges beyond expectations, I have ammunition to continue participating. If it crashes beyond expectations, I already have cash ready to buy the dip. In extreme situations, I will never be caught in a passive "all-in or all-out" trap with no room to maneuver.

**Final words**

Over seven years, I’ve seen too many stories of sudden wealth. And even more stories of liquidation. Those who make big money are not necessarily smarter than us. But they share one common trait: the ones who survive the longest tend to win the most.

Discipline may seem dull and lacking excitement. But it’s like an umbrella — when the rain comes, you’ll be glad you made the boring choice earlier.