Streaming II: Mental health

If you missed the first half, go read it first! Here's the link: https://bit.ly/37SbrnM

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As promised, I'm back. The tale will not be left unfinished!

So where were we? Oh yeah. So at the very end of October, I took a brave step and decided to try streaming. It wasn't anything special, I didn't have a facecam or an overlay, or anything really! I'd not even thought much about the game, I think I just played Europa Universalis IV, and took the lead from the streamers I'd watched, trying to interact with the people watching (who, admittedly, I already knew) and to make it a fun experience. That first stream was really weird for me. I'd never given much of a thought to what actually went on behind the scenes. All of a sudden, I was aware that I had to keep one eye out for new followers so I could welcome them, keep one eye on the stream output to make sure the quality on stream was good as in game, keep one eye on the chat so I could actually converse with people, and try to keep all eyes away from the viewer count at the top! But I survived, somehow. And I actually enjoyed it, which was not the outcome I anticipated in any way, shape or form. There was something in the fact that even though the stream might have been awful and I might have been a very VERY anxious mess, people still wanted to watch me and listen to me. Maybe that shouldn't have been such a surprise to me, but the voice in my head telling me that noone really wants to spend time with me is very convincing.

I'll skim over the rest of the streams because that's not really the point of this post. Something I've become hyper aware of is my mental state before, during and after streaming, to the point where I wanted to write about it, on the off chance that I wasn't alone in thinking and feeling what I do. So let's break it down.

First off is how I'm feeling around 3 or 4 hours before streaming. At this point, I'm genuinely pretty excited. I have an idea of what game I'll play, maybe something new to try like new commands or a different overlay, funny moments that might crop up. I'm looking forward to it, and I'll probably post on social media and Discord that I'll be streaming that afternoon/evening.

Then we jump forward to the 30 minutes leading up to me starting the stream. Not a lot of time has passed but I'm suddenly incredibly insecure. Is my voice sounding okay? Do the clothes I'm wearing look decent? Does my hair look like I just woke up? Do I have enough to drink? Am I hungry? Do I need to go to the toilet? And then, just when I feel on top of those - Did I pick the right game to play? Does anyone even want to watch? Did you put people off with the last stream? Am I even funny? Is the facecam the right size? Is the chatbot work? Does anyone even want to watch? Will anyone be there? Does anyone even want to watch? Does anyone even want to watch?

You get the point. My head is going round in circles. In the end I try to catch myself unawares and click the "go live" button so that I don't have a chance to change my mind. And weirdly, that moment there stops things in its track, because it's too late to change its mind. I've clicked start, the notifications will have gone out telling people I'm live. Now I just have to try and make the stream good. I give myself five minutes at the start with some music to make sure the nerves are under control, to get a drink if I need it and to get comfortable. That five minutes also helps in hopefully getting at least one person to join the stream. Streaming into the abyss terrifies me.

Now we're in. There's inevitably small issues - FPS drops, commands or alerts not working, stream lag - but generally everything is going okay. I'm in my flow, there's normally at least a couple of people in chat. All is fine. And then I look up at the viewer count, and so a new tangent of anxiety begins.

"Did that number just go down? What was it a minute ago? What did you say you numbskull? They hate you. Oh, wait. Someone just joined. Now another person. Now another! Wow okay, take it easy, breathe. Wait-no-they just left. Everyone just disappeared? Why? Is there something wrong. Oh no, they're back. NOW THEY'RE GONE? Okay nono, they're back. Wait someone left. Someone joined. No, someone left again. Okay, two people joined. No, someone left again..."

That feeling right there is possibly the worst bit, because I have no control. It's not even that I want huge numbers, I'm content streaming to two people, even just one! But it's the impact of the number going up, then down, then dropping, then jumping up, then dropping. Minute by minute, I'm thinking "okay, that sentence made people leave, don't say that. THAT was funny, more of that." And it's so unhelpful, because the count isn't even accurate! It's useless! I've been in streams where 10, 20 people are active in chat, but the viewer count might be 5 or 6. I know it's not 100% accurate. But it weighs on my mind that I'm letting people down, or annoying them, or disappointing them. I've created a place that people don't want to stay in. That hits me hard, even if it's not true, because in my head it is true.

But okay. We've done it, we've made it to the end of the stream. I've signed off, raided someone, ended the stream. Should be good, right? NOPE. Welcome to increased anxiety. The stream summary comes in, showing you the graph with every little change to the viewer count. You didn't increase the follower count or the sub count that stream. You didn't really generate any revenue. Nice try, maybe work harder next time? And not just that. From sitting in your chair chatting to several people and having a laugh, there's a rapid decompression. Boom. You're alone again now, people have gone, disappeared. I have that feeling every time, whether it was my best stream or my worst. I call it my post-stream blues, because without fail the feeling punches me in the gut.

At this point I know what you must be thinking. "Chris, if you feel like this, why don't you just stop streaming? You clearly don't enjoy it." And that's not true! I love streaming, showing people games that I want to play, being able to chat to my friends, meet new people, and be able to ask them questions when the game is far too difficult! I love being able to work on creating overlays and working out funny commands. I love realising that I'm creating a really memorable moment with people or being able to tell them a weird story from my life!

But real life is complex. Something can be good and bad at the same time. It can make you happy and then sad, sometimes for the same reasons. And to be fair, as time passes and I stream more, I'm learning more about how to manage the impact of streaming on my mental health. I feel more confident in talking to others, asking how they feel when things happen, and what they might do to fix a problem. I'm learning to hide the viewer count so I don't see it, to worry less about whether people are talking and to focus on making good content.

Streaming is hard, especially if your mental health isn't great to begin with. But I really do enjoy it. And what's more, for someone who a year or two ago felt like there was no light in the world, and that trying new things was just too dangerous, this is a huge, HUGE step. A ray of light in 2020 that there is hope, and that actually if I want something, then it's within my grasp. All I have to do is reach out and take it.

(again a shameless plug - come by and visit my channel here!)