Respawn: Finding Community After Social Media Burnout

We all have the habit of reaching for our phones throughout the day, a habit I’ve been trying to break for years, aware that my mental focus and creativity are thwarted by the hours wasted on Instagram. Let’s just get it out into the open- the political environment that we are suffocated with every day, swearing it can’t get worse (as it does), seems inescapable. The only reasonable action to take was to remove it completely. Cold turkey. Gone. I finally deactivated my Instagram and removed the app from my phone.

The first few days my muscle memory instinctively swiped and pressed the empty space the app used to inhabit. I’m sure it mirrored the way a smoker goes for their pack, or a nail-biter nibbles absentmindedly. I felt a void, disconnected, lonely. I missed my Instagram friends, to whom I could talk about a favorite character or a plotline, finding out if it was worth buying a day-one release. I missed sharing the journey of a game I was invested in, posting a vibrant screenshot or play session that captured emotional stories and memories. 

The algorithm was now my mortal enemy. No longer feeding me humor and joy, but anger and anxiety. Landing on a reel that, if I spent more than an average amount of time on, would force-feed me more rage content. Using my empathy against me, causing my chest to tighten and my heart to race, these bodily reactions I have no control over. Pitting two sides against each other as enemies, rather than highlighting that our similarities actually outweigh our differences. There is an enemy here, and it isn’t your neighbor with differing political opinions.

In March, when GDC brings game developers to the Bay Area, you can find a few indie events the public can attend. I wandered the booths at DNA Lounge as neon lights flashed and music boomed around me, happy when I discovered a short line, where I could play-test a new game and talk to the developers behind it. There was one small round table with a tablet running a rudimentary puzzle game, but it was a quiet reprieve from the chaos around me. I noticed behind his game tablet an open laptop with what appeared to be a social media feed. We chatted, and he explained it was social media designed for gamers, called Channel 3.

I understand the reference, of course, being a gamer in the 80s when you literally could not play a video game without clicking through the static to channel 3. I downloaded the app and made a quick profile. The app asked me to rate a few games and add the current game I was playing. The top displayed four tabs of games you can play, daily and weekly quests, clubs, and events. 

Now that over a month has gone by, I can honestly say I’m impressed. The Channel 3 app stays focused and intentional, clearly targeted at gamers. Joel, the founder, has gamified this social media app while aiming to be inclusive and non-toxic. There are daily quests, games, and leaderboards for various gaming competitions and XP. You earn reaction GIFs and taglines based on your participation and comments. You can share your gamertags and join different gaming clubs, whether it be the Chess Club or the game dev club.  

What really has stood out to me and enticed me to log in day after day is the overall sense of community and positive vibes. I really enjoy the daily quests and games. Everyone has their own page where you can find their posts and an About You section on gaming. Channel 3 has a podcast where they chat to members about their top three games, and weekly game nights and competitions. My partner and I look forward to the weekly Balatro seed, where we will often top the leaderboard. 

I recently joined a Channel 3 game night just to see what it was all about. As someone with intense social anxiety, it took some courage to join in, but I was given the lobby code for Fall Guys and was able to watch the stream on Twitch while I was playing. The Twitch channel is well-moderated, professional, and gives shoutouts to those playing along. I felt relaxed, the energy giving a sense of calm instead of my normal skittish heart-thumping anxiety from online play. I didn’t need to worry about loud, obnoxious screams from adolescents or brace for insults. I could just chill; I felt safe, and the majority of players were just millennials like me winding down after a workday. 

The app feels young, and the community is small. There are occasional hiccups, and it needs a few minor features, but the foundation is strong, and the community is tight. I have yet to encounter a toxic or divisive post. If you’re a gamer and want a safe social media community, a place where you can create a library of your games, wishlists, backlogs, and share your gaming journey, you should check out Channel 3. 

Now, when my alarm rings in the morning, I am not filled with a looming sense of dread, wondering what horrors I will encounter on Instagram or Threads. I can postpone opening my phone, get ready for the day with calmer energy, and look forward to the daily games and quests of Channel 3. Maybe one day I’ll return to Instagram, but for now I’m preserving my mental health and embracing Channel 3.