There are two versions of "regret."

Version one: You bought Bitcoin in 2017, sold in 2020, made 3x. Felt smart. Then it hit $69,000 in 2021 and you started regretting — why didn't you buy more?

Version two: You bought Ethereum in 2017, it dropped 70% in 2018, you couldn't take it, sold. Then it hit $4,800 in 2021 and you regretted even more — why didn't you hold?

Two different account balances. Same psychological architecture. You weren't regretting an event. You were paying a "regret tax" on a past decision. Continuously.

Regret Is a Special Kind of Compound Interest

Regular compound interest: your position grows larger.

Regret compound interest: every time you think about it, the pain layers one more level.

First regret: $10 of suffering. Second: $15. Third: $22.

Your mental account is going bankrupt and you don't even notice.

The scariest part: this compound interest doesn't depend on any external event. It only requires you to be alive. It only requires that thing to still exist in your memory. Then it runs on its own.

The market closes. Regret doesn't.

"If Only I Had..."

The most expensive four words in any language.

If only I had bought Tesla — it would be 80x by now.

If only I hadn't bought the graphics cards — I wouldn't be paying off the loan now.

If only I had taken that job — I wouldn't be grinding in this industry.

Every "if only" is you paying taxes to a parallel universe that doesn't actually exist. That universe has your other choice, but it doesn't have any of your subsequent experiences, learning, or iterations.

You don't regret that choice. You regret not having a perfect crystal ball.

Do You Actually Regret the Thing You Didn't Do?

Not necessarily.

Most people regret "not doing A." But the deeper question is: when you regret not doing A, do you actually understand what A was?

You see someone who "bought Nvidia and it went 20x" — you regret not buying. But what you didn't see: that person held through three 50%+ drawdowns, endured two years of flat performance, and actually added to their position during the most terrifying crashes.

You regret the outcome. Not the path.

The path itself was muddy. You wanted to穿越的不是那条路，是那个终点。

Time Isn't the Cost. Attention Is.

Many say: regret wastes time.

Wrong. Time is objective. It keeps moving whether you waste it or not.

What regret actually steals is your attention.

You're lying awake at 3 AM replaying a decision from three years ago. You're placing your attention on an unchangeable past. Meanwhile, right now, there's a trade forming, a cognitive gap widening, something you could actually do today.

Attention is the only truly non-renewable resource. Every time you regret, some of it burns.

You've already paid for that decision. Stop paying attention to it too.

How Do You Stop the Regret Tax?

One counterintuitive method: acknowledge that the bill is already paid.

You didn't "lose" three years. You "spent" three years in exchange for three years of experience, three years of growth, three years of survival资格 in this market.

You think you're losing money. You're actually buying lessons. It's just that this course has no report card — it quietly reduces your account balance and gives you a cognitive upgrade you don't want to admit.

The invoice is settled. Walk out.

Not to forgive anyone. To acknowledge: that tuition is already paid. What you have now is the version of you that came after paying it.

This version of you is worth more than the one from three years ago.