To speak from the heart, the easiest trap for those who have lost money is confusing "perseverance" with "toughing it out." On the surface, they shout about long-termism, but deep down, the logic is: I've already lost so much, if I give up now, it would be a joke. So they start self-hypnotizing, creating stories for each dip, repeatedly telling themselves this is the last panic. This isn't faith; frankly, it's just unwillingness to admit mistakes.

I used to live in this vicious cycle. When prices dropped, I wouldn't dare look at my holdings, yet I couldn't stop refreshing; I’d say I’d stay calm, but in reality, I’d be staring at news late into the night. It’s not that I didn’t understand the risks; I simply didn’t want to admit my judgment was wrong. Gradually, you realize that what’s most crushing isn’t price fluctuations, but the daily struggle with yourself.

Now, looking at certain projects, my mindset has completely changed. I no longer dream of a turnaround; instead, I ask myself: if it doesn’t follow my script, can I really hold on? Will I start making excuses again? The most frightening thing now isn’t missing opportunities, but being once again kidnapped by my own illusions.

Many people mask stubbornness as "faith," but most of the time, it’s just that they have no way out. You’re not actively choosing to hold on; you’re forced to stay because you’re afraid to admit defeat, afraid that losses will become permanent facts. But the problem is, not walking away doesn’t mean you’ve won; you’re just dragging it out, suffering every day.

I increasingly believe that getting back to break-even is fundamentally a gamble that can’t be won. It relies on rhythm, judgment, patience, and a bit of honesty with yourself. You might believe in a project, but never treat it as a spiritual refuge. No project is worth exchanging your entire mindset for. Rationality and emotion—easy to talk about, hard to do—are the most important lessons in investing.