Published November 22, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

Dear Addiction,

There are moments when we think of you like a toxic ex—the one who made us feel alive and powerful, like we finally mattered, all while steadily dismantling our peace, stability, self-trust, and the parts of us that once knew better. You didn’t arrive as destruction. You arrived as comfort. As excitement. As escape. You whispered promises of control, certainty, and belonging. And in vulnerable moments, we believed you. We chose you. Again and again.

You gave us something when we felt empty. You filled the silence. You numbed the anxiety. You made the world feel manageable. For a while, you felt like relief. Like identity. Like the only place where the noise in our heads finally quieted down. We revolved our lives around you. Defended you. Protected you. We told ourselves you weren’t the problem—that anyone who challenged you simply didn’t understand our connection.

But here is the truth you never fully revealed: your affection always came with strings. Slowly, you shifted from comfort to command. From escape to expectation. From thrill to obligation. You took more than you ever gave back. You stole our clarity, our sleep, our money, our presence. You turned anticipation into anxiety and excitement into shame. The more we reached for you, the further we drifted from ourselves.

Even in the wreckage, there was a strange tenderness we clung to—a memory of warmth that softened the sharpest edges of harm. We mistook the echo of comfort for love, and the rhythm of routine for safety—even as the consequences rippled outward, wounding not just us, but those who stood beside us and suffered silently in the crossfire.

And still, like any dysfunctional relationship, there were moments we tried to romanticize you. Moments when nostalgia blurred the damage. But love built on harm isn’t love—it’s dependency disguised as devotion. And the longer we stayed, the more we mistook familiarity for security.

So this is where the narrative changes and we reclaim our power. Where we release the fantasy of what once was and finally choose ourselves. We are not writing to invite you back in. We are writing to release you. Not with hate or resentment, but with clarity. Not with denial or deflection, but with awareness. We see you for what you were—and for what you can never be again.

You may knock. You may tempt. You may remind us of the versions of ourselves that once felt powerless and consumed by your presence. But we are learning a different strength now. One rooted in honesty. One grounded in intention. One that understands that real love and connection never leave us depleted.

And when the urge whispers your name, we will answer with something stronger than temptation and nostalgia: our boundaries, our growth, our collective commitment to choosing clarity and control over chaos and compulsion.

#CollectorsMD
Bold, intentional healing begins the moment we stop surrendering to our destruction and start building a future grounded in self-respect and intention.

—
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In this episode of The Collector’s Compass, we explore one of the most difficult and necessary questions facing the modern hobby—where does collecting end and gambling begin?

Our guest, Saul Malek, is a keynote speaker, gambling recovery advocate, and emerging voice on the psychological and cultural impact of modern gambling systems. A recovering gambling addict himself, Saul has been featured across major media platforms for his work educating young people, families, and institutions about how today’s gambling environment has evolved—and how easily it pulls people into cycles of secrecy, shame, and financial harm.

Together, Alyx and Saul unpack the growing gray area between gambling and collecting, examining how the same dopamine-driven mechanics found in casinos and betting apps now exist within modern hobby spaces: live breaks, panic bidding, randomized pulls, sudden-death auctions, and “near-miss” reinforcement loops. They explore how these systems condition behavior, increase impulsivity, and blur the line between entertainment and addiction—especially for younger collectors who may not yet understand the risks.

The conversation dives into Saul’s personal journey from fantasy sports to full-blown gambling addiction, his path toward recovery, and the emotional toll of feeling trapped inside a system designed to keep players chasing. Alyx connects these patterns directly to the stories shared inside Collectors MD—a community where collectors openly discuss the anxiety, guilt, and burnout caused by compulsive hobby engagement.

This episode also points toward solutions: education over shame, awareness over denial, and building guardrails that allow people to recognize patterns before they spiral. Saul shares what true prevention looks like, why modern gambling culture is so dangerous, and how the hobby can begin to take responsibility for the harm embedded in its design.

Whether you’re a collector, a parent, a platform user, or someone who’s ever felt overwhelmed by the chase, this episode sheds light on the systems shaping your behavior—and how reclaiming clarity can restore choice.

Subscribe, share, and join the movement toward intentional collecting—because awareness isn’t about restriction. It’s about freedom.

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Email: saul@saulmalek.com

#CollectorsMD | #SaulMalek | #RipResponsibly | #CollectResponsibly

https://www.youtube.com/live/V6_hn3ukbkM

Published November 17, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

There are moments in this hobby that genuinely bring out the best in people. Watching someone hand a meaningful hit to a kid—especially one who wasn’t expecting it—reminds us why collecting matters in the first place. Those acts of generosity cut through the noise, the hype, and the chaos. They show us that beneath everything, there’s still heart in this community.

But sometimes the environment surrounding those moments sends messages we don’t fully acknowledge. For instance, when high-end hobby boxes are ripped inside a casino, streamed to kids, and framed as entertainment, it creates a subtle association that often goes unnoticed: the blending of collecting with gambling culture.

This isn’t about criticizing anyone for having fun. Adults deserve fun. Adults deserve excitement. Adults deserve the freedom to enjoy the hobby however they choose. But kids don’t yet have the emotional or cognitive context to separate “fun” from “risk“—and the environments we place these moments in shape their understanding long before they understand the risks woven into it.

Casinos are designed to heighten adrenaline, normalize risk, and make chance feel like skill. When that backdrop becomes the stage for card ripping, even unintentionally, it blurs important boundaries that young collectors aren’t equipped to navigate.

Moments like these might seem harmless, but they quietly shape what “normal” looks and feels like to the young and impressionable kids watching.

And that’s why eduction and awareness matter. Kids don’t just watch the cards—they watch everything: the flashing lights, the cheering, the celebration of big hits, the disappointment of misses, the excitement tied directly to pulling something that makes it all seem “worth it”.

These associations form early and quietly, long before anyone realizes they’ve taken root. We often talk about protecting the next generation from predatory hobby practices, but we rarely talk about how the settings themselves can shape their expectations. If the hobby feels like a warm-up lap for gambling culture, it’s the vulnerable kids who end up absoring the impact.

This isn’t a callout; it’s a reminder. Generosity is beautiful. Community is powerful. But so is context. Our responsibility isn’t just to make kids smile in the moment—it’s to ensure the ecosystem they grow up in is grounded in intention, not risk-based excitement. To build a healthier hobby, we have to notice the subtle messages as much as the obvious ones, because that’s where long-term change begins.

#CollectorsMD
Awareness doesn’t dim the joy—it strengthens it, so future collectors can grow up loving the modern-day hobby without inheriting the risks associated with it.

—
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Published November 12, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

Hobby marketing doesn’t hint at gambling anymore—it speaks its language fluently.

The latest example comes from Arena Club, whose recent emails read like something straight out of a casino’s playbook.

One message users received today opened with, “Are you okay? We’re worried about you”. It continued, “One minute you were ripping ‘Slab Packs’ and then you just stopped. You should go rip another pack so my boss doesn’t get mad at me for not convincing you to rip one more”.

That faux-empathetic tone is followed by a big, glowing button that says “Rip a Slab Pack”.

Another email took a different angle—framing it like a comeback story: “Ready for a comeback? It’s been 15 days since your last pack rip, and honestly, we miss you around here. Get back into the excitement with a free ‘Slab Safe’”.

This isn’t clever marketing. It’s emotional manipulation. It’s preying on compulsion under the guise of connection.

When a company frames your self-control as a problem, they’re not nurturing community—they’re monetizing relapse. These aren’t accidental word choices; they’re carefully tested behavioral triggers. In the gambling world, it’s called re-engagement marketing—emails designed to wake up dormant players by poking at guilt, nostalgia, and FOMO. Only now, it’s not slot machines, blackjack tables, or spreads—it’s “Slab Packs”—just without the warning labels, oversight, or safeguards.

Let’s call it what it is: a predatory system with zero oversight. There are no regulations, no spending limits, no age gates, no accountability measures to protect consumers from tactics that are proven to exploit vulnerability. Companies are using the language of empathy (“Are you okay?”) to sell more product, not to offer support.

This isn’t creativity—it’s conditioning. What looks like care is actually coercion, dressed up in empathy to pull you back in.

And for collectors in recovery—or even those just trying to spend more mindfully—emails like this are gasoline on a smoldering fire. They turn silence into a sales opportunity. They turn progress into a marketing metric. They make relapse look like loyalty.

What’s most disturbing is how normalized it’s become. The community laughs it off as bad marketing, but for many people, these are the kind of messages that pull them right back into destructive cycles. Imagine a recovering alcoholic receiving an unsolicited email from a liquor store saying, “It’s been two weeks since your last drink—we miss you”. That would spark outrage. But in the hobby, it’s brushed off as “just part of the game”.

It’s not part of the game. It is the game—one designed to blur the line between collecting and gambling until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

The lines aren’t just blurred—they’re erased. When marketing looks this much like manipulation, “fun” becomes the disguise that keeps the harm hidden.

The scary truth is that no one’s policing this. There’s no FTC guidance, no consumer protections, no health disclaimers. Platforms like Arena Club can exploit psychological vulnerabilities at scale with zero consequence. And as long as “fun” and “nostalgia” remain the shield, the harm stays invisible.

This is why Collectors MD exists. Because someone has to say it plainly: these are not harmless marketing tactics—they’re symptoms of a broken system.

We need transparency. We need disclaimers. We need reform. And the people caught in these psychological traps don’t need judgment—they need a safety net.

Until the industry takes accountability, it’s on us—the collectors, the creators, the advocates—to keep each other grounded. To call this out. To create spaces where recovery, not relapse, is the goal.

Because when unsolicited messages like “Are you okay?” or “We miss you” are used as a hook to get you to spend again, you already have your answer.

#CollectorsMD
When the marketing starts to sound like a slot machine, it’s not “fun” anymore—it’s a warning in plain sight.

—
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We’re re-uploading every episode of our podcasts—one per day—to make sure our new members and followers can catch up from the beginning.

If you’re new to Collectors MD, these conversations are where it all started—honest, unfiltered discussions about the realities of collecting, recovery, and rebuilding a healthier hobby.

We’ll be sharing episodes from The Collector’s Compass & Behind The Breaks covering everything from gambling parallels in collecting, to mental health, to how we find purpose beyond the chase.

Whether you’ve been here since day one or just joined the movement, this is your chance to revisit the stories that shaped our mission.

Subscribe on YouTube, follow along daily, like, comment, and help us spread the message: the hobby gets healthier when we do.

Collect With Intention. Not Compulsion.

The Collector's Compass #1: Gambling & Collecting, The Two Addictions Flying Under The Radar

#CollectorsMD | #RipResponsibly | #CollectResponsibly