I suffer from a very similar anxiety, so much so that I've pretty much cut off all competitive multiplayer of any kind. With the exception of occasional crucible quickplay matches in Destiny, I haven't touched competitive multiplayer since Quake III. I don't care about my k/d ratio or number of wins or anything like that, but the prospect of being the albatross that costs my team the match can be so anxiety inducing that it negates the reason I play games at all, which is to relax and shake off the day. I don't have much advice for they hyper-competitive games like PUBG or Overwatch (even the thought of playing those gives me anxiety), but I have been able to use Destiny to work on my anxiety some. So I'll share what helped me, at least int he context of Destiny and Destiny 2's low-stakes multiplayer modes. (I've actually let this anxiety keep me from Gambit, but if it doesn't trigger your anxiety so much, it sounds like I should give it a shot.)
I think the first and best piece of advice, which I have seen above and will echo here, is to turn chat the hell off. While this negates highly-coordinated activities like nightfalls or raids, it's perfectly fine for quickplay in the crucible or strikes. I used to have a very minor extension of that anxiety related to strikes in Destiny 1, but after forcing myself to spend some time in the playlist, I realized two very important things.
1) No matter how badly you perform, the number of people who will bother to message you just to tell you how bad you did is negligible bordering on nonexistent. While I can't speak to other folks, in neither Destiny 1 or 2 have I ever had anyone message me and say how terrible I was, no matter how abysmally I did. And that's mostly because no one really cares. If a match goes bad it is just on to the next one--anyone who really cares about their numbers is in ranked, iron banner, or trials. The fear that I'm going to ruin someone's session is incredibly powerful, but also entirely unfounded because I've never experienced it: I've never had anyone tell me I ruined there's, and, just as significantly, I have never had my session ruined by someone else, no matter how poorly they performed or how much I had to carry a strike. I have no wall of infamy where I scrawl the names of players who have let me down so that I may warn my friends and shun them should they appear in matchmaking. This sounds utterly absurd, but part of my anxiety was exactly this ridiculous fear--that I would somehow acquire a mystical scarlet S for "sucks" on my player id. And if I'm not doing it, it stands to reason that few if any other players are doing it, despite what my anxiety screams at me. My anxiety got a lot more manageable when I realized...
2) It is utterly impossible for one player to ruin a strike. Part of this is mechanical; Bungie has made sure that players who are too far behind get brought forward, for example. But I realized also, partially through Destiny, but mostly through Warframe: the vast majority of players in strikes (or missions in Warframe) are so overpowered and know the strikes inside and out, so you doing well or poorly matters not a bit. Especially in the playlist, nearly every strike I do very quickly becomes one player utterly dominating, and in only the rarest of cases is it ever me. Most of the time these are people who could run these strikes blindfolded while holding the controller with their feet. And most folks I know play Destiny with their attention divided; I listen to audio books and podcasts because I'm getting to the point of knowing these missions that well. So your ability to personally "ruin" their session is nonexistent. I can barely remember the previous strike ten minutes into the next. There's a lot of focus on the need for teamwork in co-op modes, even if it's not really required, by developers; some people thrive under the pressure. But if your anxiety is anything like mine, it was incredibly helpful to realize that my contribution ultimately doesn't matter and will be quickly forgotten. With the pressure removed, I can just play for the sake of enjoying the game (or even just to have something to do with my hands while I listen to new book). All that said, there is one kind of player that can impact my session, but it is only for the better, and led me to my third realization...
3) Be the player you need in these games. If you want to work on your anxiety and step into multiplayer you will suck for a time. And it will suck to suck. But at a time when I really needed engrams, I steeled myself and did the five or six weekly crucible matches to get the powerful engram. To my immense surprise, I improved a lot faster than I thought I would. It did not take that long or as many matches as I had feared to get decent (this will depend on how you define "decent", of course; I define it as where the enjoyment outweighed the anxiety and regularly not being last). Once I got decent, I began to notice players who were struggling. Rather than get frustrated, though, I have always tried to be helpful. While it doesn't bother me anymore when a player runs ahead and does the strike basically on their own, I always appreciate when players wait for me and rez me (circumstances permitting). In the crucible, I would recommend just shadowing whoever on your team is closest and watching them; jump where they jump, shot who they shoot at, and see what you can learn. You may worry you are hindering them, but support is always appreciated, and even while you are learning maps and strategy, you are doing more for the team providing even limited support than running around the map lost and getting picked off. And if my ineffectual ass taking fire allows the better player to avoid it and make a couple of kills, then I have contributed, at least a little. This is how people learn these modes, and more people than your anxiety lets you believe understand this and are at least tolerant, usually patient, and sometimes actively helpful. The latter is always the best, and I always appreciate that person when I am playing (and especially when I'm sucking). As a minor gesture, dancing always cuts the tension. If I see someone dancing after a strike, I know they're not stewing over my performance. I try to dance after strikes because there may be someone like me (and you, it sounds like) who is worrying about just that.
Hopefully some of of this is helpful. These realizations, and Destiny in particular, have helped me a great deal. That said, there is a coda to this that I'm not sure how best to include because I don't want it to come off as hopeless. Getting decent at the crucible, and playing a lot of Destiny in general led (some might say inevitably) to needing a break from Destiny. After just scratching the Warmind expansion I took several months off, fell hard into Warframe, and only returned with Forsaken. I tried to fire up the crucible and, sadly, the anxiety was back to its full strength. People had been playing all this time and I had not, and from this kernel of truth the anxiety just snowballed back into me: I will ruin the match for my team; my name will appear on the nonexistent Wall of Shunning; somehow my poor performance will make a FUN game NOT-FUN for anyone who plays with me, even for but a single match. To anyone who doesn't suffer this kind of anxiety, these thoughts probably sound absurd to the point of farce, but they are overpowering and inescapable. Even when I was on the cusp of moving from "decent" to something resembling "good", I was never able to get rid of the anxiety entirely. But it can become tolerable and be outweighed by enjoyment; it can be managed. And if you find yourself able to find more enjoyment than anxiety in these games and modes, I would say stick with them, even if just enough to keep the anxiety in check. I'm having to start over with Destiny, and even though it may go faster this time (I hope), it's still incredibly unpleasant to force myself through that anxiety again.
I will probably never be able to LFG a raid with strangers, which means I will likely never see the raids; watching the GB crew run the first raid and just thinking about trying to participate, and inevitably screwing it up, made me physically sick to my stomach. I will probably never be able to chat with strangers in any mode, or play a battle royale of any kind. But I was able to play more of Destiny 2 than I could before, even the team modes, without the full weight of anxiety that plagued me through most of Destiny 1. I could have more fun with the modes than they caused me anxiety. And this entire thread has given me new resolve to get back to that state.
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