Tumbling ever deeper

What possible hope for a future do I have?  FM and BP conspire against me.  I will never be well.  I used to be so ambitious.  I had hopes and dreams.  I had my goals mapped out and plans for how to get there.  I sometimes like to pretend that I am still pursuing those dreams but deep down I know it's all just a facade, a ruse to try to delay my tumbling back into the total despair of reality.
When I meet people, what is the first thing they ask? "What do you do?"  We are all defined by our professions and professional aspirations.  Unemployed?  On disability? seeking disability?  I see the looks in people's eyes.  You are your job. Society propagates this idea.  Your job is nothing? Then so are you.  The lemmings fall right in single file lines and do what they are told, think what they are told to think, believe whatever society tells them must be true.
Relationships?  I've ceased pursuit of such things.  Not because I like being alone but because I am a broken shell of my former self.  How can you love another if you cannot love yourself?  Everyone has heard this but it is not true.  I can love others even if I loathe what I have become.  But who could ever see my true and hidden self and react any way other than to take flight. I sabotage all my potential relationships.  Many cannot see that they do this but I know.  I imagine the future and consider my penchant for arbitrary shifts in mood and mentality.  I'll screw it up anyway so why not save us both the pain and botch it now before either of us become too invested.  What if she doesn't care?  What if she is willing to put up with all the bad?  What if there is a woman out there understanding enough, patient enough, wonderful enough that none of that matters and she can see through the muck and hardship??  Then she is a woman deserving of so much more than I could ever hope to be.
No real hope for a successful career.  No real hope for a life free of near constant physical and mental torment.  No real hope that I could ever be someone that anyone could truly be proud of.  No real hope of finding a woman to share my life with.
Who would even want to life in such a dreary state?  Not I, but alas, I cannot end it either.  There still exist people that would feel pain if I were to expedite my exit from this world.  No matter how much I want to leave, I cannot trade my pain for theirs.  So I wait for my end or for a time when there is no longer anyone who would care if I depart from this land of sorrow.