There’s a moment right before you launch something real—something that actually matters—where doubt floods in like a tidal wave. Lately, I’ve been sitting in that moment. I believe deeply in what Collectors MD stands for. I know there’s a need. I’ve lived the need. And yet, in the first few days of CMD’s inception, I have felt completely unequipped to be the one carrying this forward. Who am I to lead this?\ What if I
One of the most critical—and difficult—things to do in the collector’s journey is to hold yourself accountable when you feel the spiral beginning. We’ve all been there. A big win or an exciting pull triggers a dopamine rush. Maybe a grail card pops up late at night, and suddenly you’re rationalizing a purchase that doesn’t fit your budget or long-term goals. You tell yourself it’s a one-time thing, that it’ll all even out. But those
I haven’t purchased a sports card since Saturday, February 22nd. That night is etched in my memory more than I’d like it to be. Over time, I started buying into high-end repack breaks—spots going for $2K to $4K a team. I’d regularly grab 4 to 10 teams in one go. Most of the time, I’d hit at least one decent card, which only fed the urge to keep going. The rush. The chase. The illusion
For years, collecting brought me joy. It gave me community, nostalgia and excitement. I loved the chase, the hits, the hobby. I still do. But somewhere along the way, that excitement turned into obsession. What started as fun became compulsive. I was chasing more than just cards—I was chasing dopamine, distraction, validation. And I didn’t realize how far it had gone until it was too late. I found myself in financial ruin. Owing money to
