— A (Not-So-Serious) Advice Column for the Terminally On-Chain
Dear Crypto Therapist,
“Help! I stare at candlesticks more than I blink. My friends think I ghosted them, and my partner thinks I’m texting someone new, but it’s just the 5-minute BTC chart. Am I broken—or just early?”
— @HODL4Eva, typing from a dark room lit only by TradingView blue light
Diagnosing Your Condition: Chronic Chart-Compulsion Disorder (CCD)
CCD symptoms present as:
- Phantom Notifications—You hear imaginary CoinGecko pings even in airplane mode.
- Alt-Tap Paralysis—Switching from charts to WhatsApp causes a full-body tremor.
- Time-Frame Micro-Dose—1-minute view, 30-second view, 15-second view… surely this zoom level will reveal the trend.
- Cushion Crevice Coins—You’ve dropped more hardware wallets between couch cushions than actual coins into a savings jar.
Congratulations: you’re not broken—you’re part of a rapidly growing community of highly self-diagnosed chartophiles. Welcome. (Please sit; stools adjusted to optimal spine-for-Fibonacci alignment.)
Why Charts Feel More Urgent Than Human Beings
1. Immediate Feedback Dopamine Loops
Friends reply in hours. Charts reply in milliseconds—like tiny pixelated golden retrievers wagging price ticks instead of tails. Your brain’s reward center has run A/B tests and chosen the pup.
2. Quantifiable Self-Worth
DMs: “You there?” → ambiguous value.
Charts: “+4.2 %” → numbers = identity! Enough said.
3. The Myth of If I Look, I Control
You secretly believe your glance prevents a dump. (Spoiler: the market is absolutely waiting for you to look away before it crashes. Ask Schrödinger.)
Satirical Treatment Plan
Disclaimer: This advice is 80% satire, 20% common sense. Consult a real therapist if your ledger balance is larger than your sleep schedule.
Phase 1: Exposure Diversification
Action: For every 30 minutes of chart-watching, switch the monitor to anything else—a cat video, a DeFi tutorial, or your tax spreadsheet (terrifying yet grounding).
Goal: Rewire dopamine rewards to nonvolatile stimuli. (Yes, spreadsheets count as non-volatile—no one’s ever FOMO-bought a pivot table.)
Phase 2: Set Alert-Free Zones
Create “low-volatility rooms” in your home:
- Kitchen: Price notifications blocked; only inventory charts (a.k.a. the fridge).
- Bathroom: The only acceptable candles here are of the scented variety.
If you must bring your phone, tape a sticky note over the top-left corner. Out of ticker, out of mind.
Phase 3: Social Proof-of-Life
Text two friends before opening your first chart each day. Suggested openers:
- “GM, here’s proof I’m alive and literate.”
- “Checking in; no, not on my portfolio, but you.”
Surprise: They may respond with non-fungible affection.
Phase 4: Gamify IRL
Turn life into staking:
- 10 push-ups per RSI crossover.
- 1 page of a novel for every failed breakout.
- Date night whenever you correctly spot a bull trap (because your relationship shouldn’t be one).
Letters From Recovered Chart-Addicts
“I replaced my 1-minute BTC view with a sourdough starter. Now I watch bubbles form at human speed.”
— Ethan, 27, Gluten-Maxi
“My girlfriend thought ‘MACD’ was another woman. Turns out she’s fine sharing me with a histogram… as long as I share dessert.”
— Karla, 31, Reformed Scalper
Ask Yourself: Will I Remember This Candle in Five Years?
Probably not.
Will you remember the brunch you skipped because SOL wicked 3%? Possibly—when your friends post it on the blockchain of memory you’re not invited to.
Parting Wisdom From the Couch
- Charts are the new slot machines—except that casinos close, and blockchains never sleep.
- Your retina is not a hardware wallet—eye-hodling gains nothing.
- If your portfolio moons and no one’s around to hear you brag, did it really pump?
Unplug, unzoom, and DM a flesh-and-blood human. The market will still betray you when you get back, promise.
Need more tough love? Send your confessions to margaret.jemituwi@rgmedia.io—I’ll prescribe another satirical salve in the next column. Until then, may your eyes find rest and your phone find Do-Not-Disturb.
