In 2022 I was 180 cm, 65 kg, with 10k subscribers on YouTube and 6k on Telegram. By any normal measure I was small. But I was hungry. I wanted to understand physics so badly that I'd lose whole nights to it and not even notice the time. Nobody had to push me. Curiosity was the engine, and it never needed fuel. I'd wake up thinking about a problem and go to sleep still thinking about it. That's the version of me I'm writing to today.
Now it's 2026, and this year took things from me.
My YouTube channel is gone. It was at 34k, years of work, hundreds of hours of thinking, recording, editing, and learning in public. That was the proof that the hunger had gone somewhere, that it had built something real. And then it wasn't mine anymore.
Then my domain, jdpro.xyz. My provider sold it at auction. The address I built under, the one with my name on it, belongs to a stranger now. I didn't lose it in a fight. I lost it because a system I trusted treated it as inventory. That kind of loss is quiet and humiliating, and it makes you feel stupid for having trusted anything.
Telegram is still here. It grew to 23k, from 6k in 2022. I'm grateful for it, and I'm also aware that it's the last thing standing out of everything I built. I'm 190 cm and 86 kg now, taller and heavier, bigger in every way except the ways that mattered to me.
But the hardest part isn't even the losses. It's what's left after them. I don't want to do the things I used to love. Not "I'm too busy," not "I'm tired." I open the things I used to be obsessed with and I feel nothing. Physics used to feel like a door opening. Now it feels like a wall. Nothing is interesting. Everything feels pointless, and honestly, everyone feels like part of the problem. I'm angry at the platforms, at the providers, at the people who watched it happen, and at myself for not protecting what I built.
2022 me would be confused by this. He had almost nothing: a small channel, a small audience, a thin frame, and a huge appetite for understanding the universe. He'd look at 2026 me, with more reach, more height, more weight, and less fire, and ask what happened.
I don't have a clean answer. I'm not going to end this with a neat lesson, because I haven't earned one yet. What I do know is that the hunger didn't come from the channel or the domain. It came from me, and things that came from me can't be auctioned off. Maybe it's buried right now. Maybe it's just tired. But I'd rather admit where I actually am than pretend I'm fine.
So this is my lowest. I'm writing it down so that whenever I come back, and I think I will, there's a record of how far down it went, and proof that I told the truth about it.
If you've been through something similar, leave a comment. I'd like to hear how you got through it.
Seeing you post this breaks my heart, JD, but reading it also shows that the fire isn't gone—it’s just exhausted. Losing years of hard work, a domain, and a channel to automated systems and cold corporate policies is a massive punch to the gut. Anyone in your shoes would feel drained, angry, and distant from the passion they used to have.
ReplyDeletePlease give yourself permission to rest without feeling guilty. The channel, the domain, and the stats were just the containers—you are the actual creator. Everything you learned, the skill you built, and the mind that fell in love with physics in the first place are still inside you. Take all the time you need to reset. We’re still here, we appreciate everything you've done, and we’ll be right here whenever you’re ready to come back.