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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Published September 10, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

I want to be clear—Collectors MD isn’t a news outlet. We don’t wade into politics, and we don’t use this space to push worldviews or opinions. Our focus is on recovery, support, and perspective—helping people step back from the cycles that can take over their lives. But when events in the world remind us how fragile life can be, they naturally connect back to the work we do here: pausing, reflecting, and remembering what really matters.

The news today about Charlie Kirk was a reminder of just how fragile life really is. Regardless of politics, moments like this force us to pause. The hobby, the spending, the chase—it can feel all-consuming, but when tragedy strikes, it all gets put in perspective. Hold your loved ones close. Tomorrow is never promised.

The news surrounding Charlie Kirk and his family is a sobering reminder of life’s fragility. Regardless of your political preferences or worldly views, moments like this put the hobby—and our struggles within it—into perspective.

That perspective came through loud and clear from our own community. In our group chat, one member shared:

“Hey, I never chime in here… Perspective is everything. Regardless of politics, being a father of children of a similar age as his, today really hit me. The hobby has been an Achilles heel for me financially but I get to go home and kiss my kids tonight. After today, I plan to pause all my buying options and focus on what's really important.”

This is the heart of it. Collecting has always had its ups and downs, its joys and its struggles. But no grail card, no hit, no big flip will ever outweigh family, health, and time. Perspective doesn’t take the hobby away—it right-sizes it. It reminds us that collecting should enhance our lives, not consume them.

The true value isn’t found in dollars, comps, or scarcity. The real value is in presence—the chance to kiss our kids goodnight, laugh with our friends and family, or hear the voice of a loved one. Those are the treasures that can’t be bought, sold, or replaced.

#CollectorsMD
Perspective reminds us that while hobbies can wait, life cannot.

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