As Bitcoin crosses $110,000 (£80,000), most people see headlines. I see dopamine.
Because beneath every bull run and blockchain buzzword lies something much more human and far more dangerous. We’re not just trading coins anymore. We’re trading away our peace of mind, our sleep, our savings. Welcome to the age of crypto addiction.
I know the terrain well. I’ve lived with ADHD since I was fourteen, and I’ve worked with addiction treatment providers for most of my career. What I’ve seen – and what I’ve lived – tells me we’re sleepwalking into a mental health crisis wrapped in the shiny promise of digital wealth.
Let’s be clear: crypto addiction is real. But like all good modern afflictions, it’s cloaked in legitimacy. “I’m just investing”, they’ll say. “I’m learning the market”. But behind the screen, it’s compulsive checking, late-night losses, irrational risks. The kind of behaviour we’d flag in a casino gets shrugged off when there’s a blockchain involved.
Gambling 2.0: No Chips, Just Charts
You don’t need to sit at a slot machine to chase a high anymore. You just need a phone.
Apps like Binance and Cypto.com make trading frictionless. A swipe. A tap. A graph goes green, and your brain lights up. When it drops, you double down. The thrill, the fear, the hope – it’s a perfect storm of psychological hooks.
It’s not by accident. These platforms are designed to keep you engaged, just like any other addiction-based product. Flashing alerts. Leaderboards. FOMO marketing. It’s Vegas meets Silicon Valley.
See, ADHD isn’t just about attention — it’s about regulation. Emotional regulation. Impulse control. Risk-reward calibration. People with ADHD are 5 to 10 times more likely to struggle with addiction. Data also suggests that 20% of problem gamblers have ADHD, and crypto is tailor-made to exploit those exact vulnerabilities.
You’re Not “Early” – You’re Hooked
Here’s the insidious part: most people don’t even realise they’re addicted. Because the culture around crypto doesn’t just permit compulsive behaviour, it glorifies it.
Sleep is optional. Hustle is sacred. Anyone who sells is weak. Anyone who questions the grind doesn’t “get it”. The forums are filled with memes and mantras, but very little self-reflection. It’s a digital Wild West where the winners become gods and the losers disappear quietly.
And in between those extremes are thousands of ordinary people, stuck in a loop they don’t know how to escape. They aren’t investing. They’re surviving – just one more refresh, one more trade, one more pump.
Behind the Buzz: What Crypto Addiction Really Looks Like
You won’t always spot a crypto addict.
They’re not passed out in alleyways or screaming at fruit machines. They’re sitting at work, refreshing charts. They’re in bed at 3am, checking Discord for the next altcoin tip. They’re your friend who “just needs to make back what they lost” before quitting.
But what’s happening inside? It’s textbook compulsive behaviour.
Clinics I’ve worked with see this all the time now — people coming in for “stress” or “burnout” and, once the layers peel back, you find entire lives hijacked by market volatility. Missed birthdays. Credit card debt. Relationship breakdowns. Sleep destroyed. Not by a substance, but by a screen, and a hope that the next trade will fix everything.
We tend to think of addiction as a physical dependency. Crypto strips that illusion. This is psychological. Emotional. Existential. It’s the craving to feel in control — to predict, to conquer, to win. And when you lose, you chase it even harder.
The difference between a crypto addict and a problem gambler? A casino closes. The blockchain never sleeps.
The ADHD Factor: Fast Brain, Fast Losses
Now layer in the neurodivergent brain like mine.
ADHD is like being permanently under stimulated and overstimulated at the same time. Boredom is painful. Novelty is narcotic. And nothing screams novelty like a 24/7 digital economy where a meme coin can 100x overnight.
It’s no surprise that many people with ADHD end up drawn to things that offer quick hits of dopamine – gambling, drugs, extreme sports, impulsive spending. Crypto is just the latest frontier. But unlike drugs or drink, it wears a suit of respectability. It’s “the future of finance”. It’s “disruptive” It’s “smart”.
But for someone wired like me, it’s also deeply dangerous. The line between strategic investment (if you can even call it that) and compulsive trading is razor thin and most of us only realise we’ve crossed it when it’s too late.
I’ve had friends lose tens of thousands. I’ve witnessed work colleagues who couldn’t hold jobs because they were glued to market news. This isn’t about Bitcoin. It’s about behaviour.
The Cultural Lie: Addiction Is a Weakness
And still, most people do not talk about it.
Why? Because we’ve been conditioned to see addiction as weakness and crypto addiction as stupidity. If you lost money, you weren’t smart enough. If you burned out, you didn’t “do your research”, In a space obsessed with alpha and edge, there’s no room for vulnerability.
So people suffer silently. They don’t see themselves as addiction sufferers. They see themselves as failed investors. But behind that shame is the same cycle I’ve seen a hundred times: compulsive pursuit, denial, loss, crash, repeat.
Addiction doesn’t care if you’re buying alcohol or crypto. If it’s hijacking your life and stealing your joy, it’s doing damage.
What Recovery Looks Like (And What It Doesn’t)
Let me be clear: I’m not anti-crypto.
I’m anti-denial.
Crypto, like alcohol, gambling, or even work, isn’t inherently addictive. It’s the relationship we form with it, the meaning it carries, the role it plays in regulating our nervous system, that makes it dangerous for some of us. If it becomes the only place you feel powerful, hopeful, or alive… you’re not trading. You’re self-medicating.
Recovery, then, starts with honesty.
When I finally faced my own patterns – not with substances, but with compulsive behaviours that looked functional – it was brutal. I had to ask: “What pain am I avoiding? What am I chasing? Who would I be without this”?
That’s the work. Not quitting crypto, necessarily. But building a life where you don’t need it to feel okay.
And for that, we need systems. Safe spaces. Therapists who understand compulsion as a trauma response, not a moral failing. Clinics whotea ask the right questions, especially when someone presents with burnout, ADHD, or anxiety. We need treatment models that look beyond the obvious because crypto addiction doesn’t look like addiction. That’s why I love working with Abbington House.
A Final Word
As Bitcoin hits new highs, so will the number of people hitting personal lows. Some will make money. Some will make headlines. And some will quietly unravel, refresh after refresh, trade after trade, hoping the next candle turns green and everything they’re avoiding disappears.
If that’s you – or someone you love – know this:
You’re not broken. You’re not alone. And you don’t have to lose everything to get help.
Crypto isn’t the enemy. Silence is.
