The crypto space has a way of making you feel invincible one moment and completely broken the next. Like many entrepreneurs caught up in the NFT craze of 2021-2022, I thought I’d found my golden ticket to financial freedom. I was already living the digital nomad dream, having built successful dropshipping businesses, and NFTs seemed like the natural next step. What followed was a two-year journey that would cost me $30,000, nearly destroy my mental health, and ultimately teach me the most valuable lesson of my entrepreneurial career.
The $30k Lesson: How Two NFT Projects Crashed
My first NFT project started as a solo venture in late 2021. I was convinced that my e-commerce background gave me an edge—I understood marketing, I knew how to build hype, and I had connections in the digital space. I invested heavily in artwork, smart contract development, and marketing campaigns. The initial concept was solid: a utility-driven collection that would give holders access to exclusive business resources and networking opportunities. I poured $15,000 into development, convinced that this would be my breakout moment.
The launch was a disaster. Despite months of building a community and generating what I thought was genuine interest, we barely sold 20% of the collection. The secondary market was non-existent, and the utility I’d promised became impossible to deliver profitably with such low adoption. Holders were frustrated, the community dissolved, and I was left holding the bag—literally and figuratively. The failure stung, but I told myself it was just a learning experience.
Instead of stepping back and reassessing, I doubled down. Six months later, I partnered with a team for what I was certain would be a redemption story. This time, we had more experience, better artwork, and a more robust marketing strategy. I invested another $15,000 of my own money, plus countless hours in development and community building. The team dynamics seemed strong, and we all believed we were building something special.
The second failure was even more devastating than the first. Not only did we face the same market challenges, but internal conflicts tore the team apart. Disagreements over direction, profit-sharing, and responsibilities created a toxic environment. When the project inevitably failed to gain traction, finger-pointing began, and what had started as a collaborative effort became a bitter dissolution. I walked away $30,000 poorer, mentally exhausted, and questioning everything I thought I knew about business.
From Digital Nomad Dreams to Rock Bottom Reality
The financial loss was significant, but the psychological impact was far worse. For years, I’d built my identity around being the successful digital nomad entrepreneur. I’d made good money with dropshipping, traveled the world, and projected an image of having it all figured out. The NFT failures shattered that self-image and exposed the fragility of the lifestyle I’d built. I started questioning not just my business decisions, but my entire approach to life and success.
The stress began manifesting in ways I hadn’t anticipated. My sleep patterns became erratic, my focus deteriorated, and I found myself constantly refreshing charts and Discord channels, desperately hoping for some sign that things might turn around. The ADHD symptoms that I’d previously managed through the excitement of new ventures became overwhelming when faced with failure and uncertainty. I was stuck in analysis paralysis, unable to move forward but unwilling to accept the losses.
Alcohol became my escape mechanism. What started as a few drinks to unwind after stressful days gradually became a daily habit, then a dependency. The nomadic lifestyle that had once felt liberating now felt isolating, especially when dealing with failure. I was bouncing between countries, running from the reality of what had happened rather than facing it head-on. Friends and family noticed the changes, but I was too proud and too deep in denial to acknowledge that I needed help.
The rock bottom moment came during a particularly dark period in Southeast Asia. I was alone in a co-working space, drunk in the middle of the day, trying to piece together yet another "comeback" strategy. I looked around at other digital nomads grinding away on their laptops, and I realized I’d become everything I’d once criticized—someone chasing quick wins without building anything meaningful. That night, I made two decisions that would change everything: I was going to get sober, and I was going to completely rethink what success meant to me.
Finding Purpose Beyond the Get-Rich-Quick Cycle
Sobriety wasn’t just about stopping drinking—it was about stopping the entire cycle of self-destructive behavior that had led me to this point. The first few months were brutal. Without alcohol to numb the disappointment and anxiety, I had to face the full reality of my situation. I’d burned through savings, damaged relationships, and spent two years building nothing of lasting value. But for the first time in years, I was thinking clearly enough to see patterns in my behavior that had been invisible before.
The clarity that came with sobriety revealed how my ADHD had been driving many of my poor decisions. The constant need for stimulation and novelty had made me jump from opportunity to opportunity without ever building deep expertise or sustainable systems. I started working with professionals to better understand and manage my ADHD, implementing structures and routines that actually worked with my brain rather than against it. This wasn’t just about business—it was about fundamentally changing how I approached challenges and goals.
As I reflected on my journey, I realized that my most valuable asset wasn’t my money or my previous successes—it was my experience with failure and recovery. I’d lived through the entire cycle of chasing quick wins, experiencing devastating setbacks, and finding a way back to clarity and purpose. More importantly, I’d learned to identify the warning signs and behavioral patterns that lead to these cycles. This realization sparked the idea for my current coaching business.
Now, five months sober and with a completely different perspective on success, I’m building something that actually matters to me. My coaching practice focuses on helping entrepreneurs break the same destructive cycles I experienced—whether it’s addiction, ADHD management, or social media dependency. Instead of chasing the next get-rich-quick scheme, I’m focused on creating long-term value for people who are struggling with the same challenges I faced. The irony isn’t lost on me that my biggest failures have become the foundation for what feels like my most meaningful work.
Losing $30,000 on failed NFT projects was painful, but it wasn’t the real cost. The real cost was two years of my life spent chasing illusions instead of building something meaningful. The real cost was the relationships strained, the mental health compromised, and the time lost to alcohol and regret. But sometimes the most expensive lessons are also the most valuable ones. Today, I’m not trying to get rich quick or project an image of success I haven’t earned. I’m simply trying to help others avoid the mistakes I made and find their own path to sustainable success. If you’re an entrepreneur struggling with similar challenges—whether it’s addiction, ADHD, or the constant pull of social media—know that there’s a way forward that doesn’t involve repeating the same destructive cycles. Sometimes the best thing that can happen to your business is hitting rock bottom, because that’s where you finally stop digging and start building something real.
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