I’ve seen people make money and still feel empty. I’ve been that person too. A green number on the screen, a closed trade in profit, and yet something feels off. Instead of relief, there’s irritation. Instead of satisfaction, there’s a quiet voice saying, it could have been more.
In the market, profit doesn’t land in a vacuum. It lands next to memory. The last loss that still stings. The trade you exited early that ran without you. The one you hesitated on and watched from the sidelines. So even when you win, your mind replays what you didn’t get. You don’t compare today to zero. You compare it to an imaginary perfect version that never existed.
I’ve noticed how quickly profit turns into pressure. Now you feel smarter. Or luckier. Or both. And with that comes restlessness. You start questioning your exit, your size, your timing. You scroll the chart again, hunting for proof that you were right or wrong. The trade is over, but your head isn’t.
Losses hurt loud. Profits hurt quietly. They whisper doubts instead of screaming pain. And maybe that’s why satisfaction is rare here. Because the market always shows you a better outcome after the fact, and the mind keeps chasing that shadow.
At some point, you realize the discomfort isn’t about money at all. It’s about never letting a moment be enough.