Mental health in esports: behind the competition and glory

person sitting on gaming chair while playing video game

The esports industry is growing quickly, drawing millions of young people worldwide who dream of becoming professional players or working in gaming. With exciting tournaments, big-money sponsors, and fans everywhere, esports has become a major part of modern culture.

But behind the flashy events and cheering crowds lies a darker truth: the intense training, nonstop competition, and online hate often lead to serious mental health struggles for those involved. The tragic death of Karel “Twisten” Ašenbrener, a professional Valorant player who died by suicide in 2023, is a heartbreaking example of the mental health crisis in the industry. Despite his talent and success, Twisten’s fight with depression shows the hidden pain many players face.

This report looks into the mental health challenges faced by esports players and workers. Through interviews with players, streamers and experts like Steven Chu, a master’s student who studies anxiety at The University of Melbourne, it explores the pressures they face, how they cope, and what the industry is doing—or failing to do—to help.

By sharing these stories, HeadLines hopes to start a conversation about the need for better mental health support in esports and push for changes to make the industry healthier for everyone.

Where does the pressure come from?

For many esports players, the pressure to perform well is overwhelming. Unlike traditional sports, where physical fitness is key, esports demands quick thinking, perfect timing, and hours of daily practice. Players often train 12 hours a day or more, leaving little time for rest or a normal life.

Jay Shi, who once trained at an Chinese Overwatch youth program, shared his story: “When I was in training, the schedule was extremely tough. We practised nonstop—no days off, no breaks. The coaches were strict, and if you didn’t play well, they’d replace you immediately. It felt like fighting a battle every day, but you couldn’t afford to lose.”

The stress grows worse because players are always being watched—by fans, teammates, and themselves. Every mistake in a game can be seen by thousands online, leading to cruel comments and bullying. Jay added: “After matches, most of the famous players check social media. People would write things like, ‘You’re terrible,’ or ‘Give up.’ It might crush their confidence. They might start questioning whether they even deserve to be there.”

Adding another layer to the narrative, Shadow Man (real name Eric Yang), a Chinese streamer with 40–50K followers, described similar challenges from the streaming world. “Streaming isn’t just about playing games—it’s about being on 24/7, managing expectations, and constantly proving yourself,” Eric explained. “There are days when the pressure from live chats and social media comments feels overwhelming. Every stream, every post, is a performance, and it sometimes feels like my worth is entirely tied to my online success.”

Another issue is how short esports careers are. Most players retire by their mid-20s due to burnout or slower reflexes. This creates a race to succeed before time runs out. Steven Chu, a researcher studying psychology in anxiety, explains: “Young players build their identity around winning. When retirement comes, they lose not just a job, but their sense of purpose. Traditional athletes can transition to coaching—esports hasn’t built those safety nets yet.” Jay echoed this: “In training, everyone knew they had one chance. If you didn’t improve fast, you were out. The fear of failure kept me up at night.”

The nonstop grind of esports often leads to burnout—a mix of physical and emotional exhaustion. Players spend hours practicing, studying strategies, and traveling to events, with little time for friends, hobbies, or sleep. Jay remembered: “We trained over 12 hours a day. Even on days off, I couldn’t relax. I’d lie awake thinking about mistakes I made. It felt like my mind never stopped racing.”

Burnout often comes with anxiety and depression. Many players hide their struggles because they fear being seen as weak or losing their spot on the team. Jay admitted: “No one talked about mental health in training. If you said you were stressed, people would mock you. So I kept everything inside. It felt like I was sinking, but I couldn’t ask for help.” Steven Chu adds: “The industry treats players like machines. They’re told to ‘push harder,’ but no one teaches them how to handle the weight of constant pressure.” Eric from the streaming world shared a similar sentiment. “I’ve had moments where I felt isolated even when surrounded by thousands online. Learning to take breaks, connecting with close friends, and sometimes seeking professional guidance has been vital for me,” he said, emphasising that even streamers are not immune to these pressures.

Coping and solutions

Twisten’s death shows what can happen when mental health is ignored. Despite his skill, Twisten fought depression alone. His story deeply affected Jay: “When I heard about Twisten, I broke down. I could understand his pain—the loneliness, the pressure. It’s terrifying how easy it is to feel trapped in this world.”

While some esports organisations are starting to care about mental health, most still focus only on winning. Teams often treat players like tools, not people. Jay said: “The club didn’t care if we were tired or stressed. They just wanted results. If you couldn’t keep up, they’d replace you. It made me feel worthless.”

There are small signs of change. For example, the UK’s National University Esports League (NUEL) encourages teamwork, fair play, and mental wellness. They ask players to take breaks, talk openly, and balance gaming with school or work. Steven highlights other efforts: “A few teams now use mindfulness training or art therapy. These help players reconnect with emotions they’ve buried to survive the grind.” But these efforts are rare. Most teams still don’t offer mental health support. Jay noted: “I’ve heard a few teams now have psychologists, but it’s not common. Most players still suffer alone.”

Players are also taking steps to protect their mental health. Some try meditation or exercise to clear their minds. Others join online groups or see therapists. Jay shared how he coped: “After leaving training, I started writing down my thoughts. It helped me process my feelings. I wish clubs taught us these tools earlier.” Steven Chu emphasises the need for systemic change: “Band-Aid solutions aren’t enough. We need schedules that respect sleep, career planning for life after gaming, and fans who support players as humans, not just avatars.”

Ways to protect the players.

The mental health crisis in esports won’t fix itself. To protect players, the industry needs to:

1. Offer mental health help: Teams should hire counsellors, provide therapy, and teach players how to handle stress.

2. Reduce pressure: Limit practice hours, give regular days off, and focus on players’ well-being, not just their wins.

3. Encourage openness: Create a culture where players can talk about their struggles without fear.

4. Educate fans: Teach fans to support players with kindness, not hate.

Jay has a message for the industry: “We’re not machines. We are people with feelings. Teams need to stop treating us like tools and start caring about our mental health. If they don’t, more players will suffer—or worse.”

Esports is full of amazing moments—epic wins, incredible plays, and players who inspire fans everywhere. But it’s also full of silent struggles. The industry’s success shouldn’t come at the cost of players’ mental health. By sharing stories like Jay’s and Twisten’s, we can push for changes that make esports safer and healthier.

As fans, we can help too. Next time when we watch a tournament, remember: the players on screen are real people. They deserve kindness, not cruelty. Together, we can build an esports world where talent shines—and no one has to fight alone.