So I end my life, and it crushes my family (parents & sister). I don’t want to do that. I don’t think I can do that. I love them, despite all the ways I’ve wronged them.
On the other hand, I stick around, and it’s just painful. I don’t think I can ever form any real connection with anyone, or enjoy their company. There’s large parts of me that are just plain evil, that are unacceptable. I can’t let anyone see who I really am. I’m utterly alone, even when I’m not. My day to day existence is meaningless. I hate being around people, because I have constant anxiety, because I’m trying to hide who I really am. I get to see everyone else enjoying their lives, without being able to fully take part. I don’t care about anything consistently enough to work towards it.
The problem is that I care enough not to kill myself, but not enough to live my life properly. So I’m left in this state of miserable purgatory, dragging down those around me.