Real Estate Fable EP.1 — Covering Old Wounds with a “Leftover Loan” Condo

Real Estate Tale EP.1 — Closing Old Wounds, Creating New Ones

#WithLeftoverMoneyCondos
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This story is long.
But if you’ve ever struggled with debt —
or thought buying a “condo with leftover cash” could save you —
please read it till the end.
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Let’s say the story is about me.
No one else.
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It was late 2023.
The air wasn’t cold,
but something inside felt frozen.
That quiet chill when you know
you’re about to do something stupid —
yet you convince yourself it’s salvation.
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“This is it,” I told myself.
“My golden ticket out of the storm.”
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I had four credit cards.
Two maxed out.
The other two were “for emergencies”…
and every day was an emergency.
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I’d been paying only minimums —
10,000 paid, 8,000 went to interest,
2,000 actually reduced the debt.
The pain wasn’t just financial.
It was not knowing where the finish line was.
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Then one day,
a younger friend sent me a condo link.
“Try this, bro. Buy a leftover-money condo.
You’ll get extra cash to close your debts.”
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At first, I laughed.
Then I clicked.
The price looked decent.
The location — not bad.
And there it was in bold letters:
“Loan amount higher than purchase price —
Get cash back after purchase.”
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My heart whispered,
“See? Your escape plan.”
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The process was almost too easy.
Meet the sales agent.
Sign.
Submit.
Wait.
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They said, “Don’t worry about the documents — we’ll handle everything.”
Bank statements? “We’ll make them look good.”
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A month later — approved.
Loan: 2.2 million.
Actual price: 1.9 million.
Difference: 300,000 baht.
Money transferred. Real.
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When the cash hit my account,
it felt like oxygen after drowning for months.
I cleared every credit card.
Every outstanding debt.
For the first time in years,
my banking app showed zero balance due.
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Freedom.
Brief, intoxicating freedom.
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But soon… something smelled off.
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The condo was too far to live in.
Too empty to rent.
There were six other new projects nearby.
Competition everywhere.
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Average rent: 6,500 THB/month.
Loan payment: 12,000 THB/month.
Plus common fees.
Plus utilities.
Plus regret.
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Within two months, the extra cash was gone.
That’s when I realized —
I hadn’t erased debt.
I’d moved it.
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From unsecured cards
to a property tied with my name.
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Creditors used to call.
Now it would be the court.
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What I thought was a rescue
was really a bigger cage.
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And the cruel part?
I signed for it smiling.
Smiling in that photo the agent took.
A smile that now looks fake —
the kind you wear when lying to yourself.
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I didn’t heal my old wound.
I just wrapped it in a prettier bandage
and added two new stitches.
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Months passed.
The condo stood still —
sometimes rented, mostly vacant.
Payments due every month,
bank never late to ask,
“Have you made your installment this month?”
Never once,
“Are you doing okay?”
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When I told friends,
some stayed silent —
because they’d done the same.
Some were applying right then.
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Many still believed
“leftover-money condos” were a shortcut to freedom.
But they’re not shortcuts.
They’re detours —
to dead ends paved with shiny tiles.
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This isn’t a moral tale.
Not advice.
Just truth.
From someone who thought
a condo loan could be light at the end of the tunnel —
but found out
it was a truck’s headlight instead.
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Because sometimes,
the easiest way out
isn’t the safest way through.
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Life doesn’t crash all at once.
It sinks —
floor by floor —
like a building with a weak foundation.
Still standing.
But leaning.
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First month, I managed.
Second month — freelance jobs dried up.
Renters? None.
Payment? Still due.
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One night, I stopped for dinner,
checked my bank app.
Balance: 2,180 THB.
Tomorrow’s installment: 12,000 THB.
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My stomach turned.
Not from hunger.
From helplessness.
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Next day, I called the agent.
“I can’t do this anymore.
Any way to reduce the burden?”
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Silence.
Then:
“Maybe sell the condo, bro.
Better lose a bit than lose everything.”
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Lose a bit meant selling at 1.6M,
covering 300K out of pocket.
Smart move —
if I’d had the 300K left.
But I didn’t.
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The money was gone.
Wiped out by debt payments, relief spending,
and the illusion of a new beginning.
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By month three, I was borrowing again —
from friends this time.
Telling them,
“I’ll repay once the condo rents out.”
Knowing deep down,
that day might never come.
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That’s when I truly understood
what “good debt” and “bad debt” meant —
not from books,
but from bruises.
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Good debt builds value.
Bad debt bleeds you quietly.
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Mine was the latter.
A debt with no income,
just interest
and anxiety no one shares.
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One day, I caught my reflection in the mirror.
I wasn’t shocked by how tired I looked —
but by the fact that I couldn’t meet my own eyes.
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Ashamed —
of how smart I thought I was.
Of preaching financial wisdom
while digging my own pit.
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So I wrote my story —
raw, unfiltered —
and posted it in a private real estate group.
No pretense. No saving face.
Just truth.
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Turns out, I wasn’t alone.
Hundreds had the same scars.
Some worse.
Some barely escaping.
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It helped.
Not because misery loves company —
but because it reminded me:
If you learn from it,
it’s not stupidity.
It’s tuition.
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So I rebuilt.
Sold what I didn’t need.
Negotiated with the bank.
Refinanced.
Moved in with relatives.
Cut costs.
Slow, steady healing.
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Not luck —
just acceptance.
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And today,
I still have debt —
but I understand it.
And that’s power.
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Because life never gives gifts for free.
Even “extra money from condos”
is just a loan wrapped in a ribbon.
If you open it blind —
it won’t save you.
It’ll strangle you softly
in monthly installments.
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Then one night,
I listed the condo online.
No fluff, no fake optimism.
Just honesty:
“Owner selling. Can’t afford payments anymore.”
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A month later,
someone offered way below cost.
I almost sold.
But then I realized —
selling wasn’t salvation either.
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So I became my own agent.
Rebranded.
Took new photos.
Added cheap wallpaper.
Tweaked the lighting.
Posted:
“Owner-managed, well-maintained.”
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And boom —
it rented at 8,500 THB.
Not enough to cover the mortgage,
but enough to breathe again.
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Days passed.
Freelance work trickled in.
Not big money —
but steady.
Like raindrops filling a small bowl.
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Then the bank called.
“You’ve paid consistently for three months.
Want to refinance?”
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I almost cried.
Lower rate.
Lighter principal.
One breath closer to peace.
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Later, a senior in the industry called.
He’d seen my post.
“Can you come share this story with my students?”
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That line hit harder than any debt notice.
Because it meant —
my failure had finally earned purpose.
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So I did.
I stood before 20 students,
in a quiet classroom,
no spotlight, no mic —
just truth.
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I didn’t teach formulas, ROI, or location analysis.
I told them about debt.
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About the day I had 2,180 baht
and owed 12,000 the next morning.
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At the end, one girl raised her hand.
“If I just started working and could buy a condo,
should I — or wait?”
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I smiled.
“Buy if you have a plan — not just a dream.”
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A condo isn’t evil.
Debt isn’t a monster.
But debt becomes hell
when you don’t know why you’re borrowing.
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I told her —
Don’t buy because of FOMO.
Don’t buy just to “own something.”
And never let debt become proof of success.
Because debt doesn’t mean you’ve made it.
Sometimes, it just means
you’re struggling quietly.
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And if you ever forget that —
remember this:
Every square meter you finance
isn’t just concrete.
It’s responsibility.
And if you don’t know yourself first —
you might build your own grave,
one payment at a time.
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Before I left that class,
I said one last thing:
“A true property owner isn’t someone brave enough to borrow —
it’s someone brave enough to take responsibility if it all collapses.”
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That day,
for the first time,
my failure actually helped someone.
And that —
was worth more than any condo.
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End of Real Estate Tale.

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