Published October 20, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

For some, recovery means learning to collect with a refined mindset—one rooted in intention, balance, and responsibility. For others, it means walking away entirely—and that choice deserves just as much respect—maybe even more.

There are collectors who’ve realized that no matter how much work they do, no matter how many guardrails they set, the pull of the chase will always outweigh their ability to stay in control. The high is too high, the come-down too heavy. For them, the only real freedom comes from complete abstinence—a lifetime form of self-exclusion from the spaces, apps, and behaviors that once consumed them.

That decision doesn’t come from weakness—it comes from wisdom and self-discipline. It’s the recognition that some fires can’t be managed safely, no matter how small you try to keep them. Walking away isn’t quitting the hobby; it’s choosing peace over proximity. It’s saying, “I value my life more than my collection”.

Abstinence is not a failure of willpower. It’s an act of strength, awareness, and radical acceptance. It’s reclaiming your time, your clarity, your relationships, and your sense of self from something that kept taking more than it gave.

Sometimes strength isn’t found in holding on, but in having the courage to walk away and reclaim the life collecting once overshadowed.

Abstinence is also one of the most misunderstood paths in recovery. People often assume that walking away means turning your back on community or abandoning what you love. But in reality, it’s about creating a life that no longer revolves around constant temptation. It’s like someone in recovery from alcohol choosing not to hang out at the bar or with other people that still drink in moderation—not because they hate everyone there or anyone who still drinks, but because they know how easy it can be to fall back into old patterns.

For some, abstinence brings the first real breath of peace they’ve felt in years. No more unopened mailers, no more late-night doom scrolling, no more guilt or shame over spending, no more lying or hiding from loved ones. Just stillness. And in that stillness, they rediscover who they are without the chase.

We’ve discussed at great length the two lanes of recovery: abstinence or intention. Both are valid, both take courage. But abstinence requires a special kind of honesty—the kind that admits, “I can’t moderate this anymore. And that’s okay”. It’s not a punishment. It’s permission to live free of the burden collecting once carried.

And for those who are still collecting with intention within our community—it’s important to remember that recovery doesn’t look the same for everyone. In our group chat, Discord, and weekly meetings, conversations about cards or collectibles, even when they come from a healthy and intentional place, can still be triggering for those who’ve chosen complete abstinence. We have to stay mindful and sensitive to that—approaching every discussion with empathy and respect for the boundaries others have set to protect their peace.

At Collectors MD, we honor every lane of recovery. If your healing looks like stepping away for good, we don’t see loss—we see liberation.

#CollectorsMD
Sometimes the healthiest collection is the one you’ve learned to live without.

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Published September 13, 2025 | By Drew D, Collectors MD Supporter

On your mark. Get set. Go!

You receive a notification on your phone that your package was delivered. But at the same time, your spouse calls to say they just parked. Your adrenaline spikes. You start to panic. Now, it’s a race to see who can get to the mailbox first. You drop everything—rush to the mailbox—grab your package—rush back inside to hide it until you can open it safely, when you’re alone. And for the finale—you put on a happy face, sit down on the couch, and act like everything is normal. Rinse and repeat.

Many of us in the hobby know that feeling all too well. What had become of this “hobby” I was participating in? The shame, guilt, hiding, and lying surrounded what I thought was supposed to be an activity that brought joy. A hobby is defined as “an activity done regularly in one’s leisure time for pleasure”. But how could I find pleasure in something that constantly brought me dread, shame, debt, and destruction?

The frantic race to the mailbox captures the anxiety so many collectors know all too well—chasing packages, hiding purchases, and pretending everything is fine when inside we’re consumed by guilt and secrecy.

Even when I recognized that racing my wife to the mailbox wasn’t normal, I couldn’t stop myself from ending up in that same position just days later. I would time out purchases carefully. If I bought from a seller in Pennsylvania on a Thursday, I knew it would likely arrive Monday or Tuesday when my wife was at workout classes until 8pm. I thought I was in the clear. But if the seller shipped late, panic would set in—I couldn’t risk my secret being discovered.

That’s what the hobby became to me—a secret. I chased rookies, bought into mystery chases, bid 10x more than I should just because the card looked better in a one-touch with a countdown clock ticking. I kept it all to myself, even when I had wins. Who could I share it with? My wife? No way. My parents? Absolutely not. So I became the “big shot” in chatrooms, finding false validation in places that didn’t care what was happening behind closed doors.

Today, I don’t feel that anxiety of racing my wife to the mailbox. I’ve stepped away completely from the hobby I once enjoyed—because now all it brings back are reminders of how I almost ruined everything. I know others can find a middle ground: collecting with intention and enjoying what brings joy without despair. But for me, that’s not my path, and I’m okay with that. Above my desk is a sticky note I read daily: “Marriage or Cardboard?” It’s my reminder of priorities moving forward. Recovery looks different for each of us, but one thing is universal—we must keep working it, one day at a time, to become better versions of ourselves.

That’s why I chose to share my story with Collectors MD—because in this community, I don’t have to carry the weight of secrecy alone, and I find solace knowing there are others walking the same road toward healing.

If you feel like you need to hide it, ask yourself this: what is the fallout—what are the consequences if it gets exposed?

#CollectorsMD
Sometimes the race we think we’re running is the one pulling us further from what matters most.

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