Why is it that the true bottom of a bear market often isn’t when panic is at its peak, but rather when no one even bothers to talk about it anymore? Right after a major crash, the market is actually still pretty lively. Some are buying the dip, some are calling for zero, people are arguing about the next candlestick in group chats, trading volume and open interest are still high. It looks bad, but everyone’s still watching the price, which means hope hasn’t truly disappeared. I used to jump in right after the first big drop, thinking the panic had peaked. But then the price would rebound for a few days, only to start a long, slow grind downward. No big crashes, no major news—just a little drop every day. Until one day, no one in the group chats is talking about crypto anymore, no one’s chasing rebounds, and even when projects announce good news, there’s barely any trading activity. That’s when I realized: the hardest part of the market isn’t the sharp drops, it’s the passage of time. Sharp drops kill leverage; slow declines kill confidence. The former forces liquidations, while the latter makes people leave voluntarily. The bottom usually comes when bag holders stop averaging down, short-term traders lose interest, and even long-term holders start to doubt. That’s when the chips slowly transfer from impatient hands to those willing to wait. Of course, a quiet market doesn’t mean the bottom is immediately in. You still need to watch if selling pressure has eased, if bad news continues to hit new lows, and if the lows after rebounds are gradually rising. Remember: Tops are formed when everyone’s afraid of missing out. Bottoms are formed when most people no longer want to participate. The market’s ultimate capitulation doesn’t come with screams—it comes with silence.