Cognitive dissonance and OCD are destroying me

I suffer cognitive dissonance and pure O, so my decisions are hardly ever up to me and my body and mind don’t even belong to me anymore, so if I lose my cool at my house one more time, it’s gonna be out of my control and I’m gonna go homeless because of it. I feel like I’m fucking cursed, and shit never goes my way, and if anything is ever to go wrong, it’s gonna go wrong towards me and not anyone else. It’s also to the point where I don’t wanna do anything at all anymore and I’d just rather lie in bed and do nothing, as anytime I do anything, I feel obligated and pressured by my own mind to finish it all at once, as everything I do turns into a fucking contest or completist situation. It’s so bad that I lose a whole night worth of sleep over something as stupid as an unfinished fucking Spotify playlist.

I don’t know if I’m addicted to music or something, but I have over literally 700 playlists counted, which I’ve acquired since only last December, and it’s mainly because of my completist and incredibly ridiculous collective obsessions that often make me feel incomplete if I don’t have a complete collection of something I like to listen to. It also triggers a manic meltdown if the stupid playlist album cover image doesn’t work and load like it’s supposed to, especially if it’s one I created, or a rare one I struggled to find on Pinterest or something, because the 4 square album covers of the different songs within the playlists bothers my OCD for some reason. I rarely ever journal anymore, because I have so many thoughts that go through my mind every second of everyday, as well as so many days I didn’t journal that I need to catch up with, some of which are from several months ago that I don’t understand why they’re still even important in the first place. I’ve also had a lot of feelings about a lot of events that I never got to write about, due to hospitalization and having to replace my iPad several times, which took weeks until being able to do so, due to it being broken and having to wait until getting paid to have it repaired. I rarely ever write by hand and most of my journaling is typing done on my iPad notepad, mostly because my stupid OCD makes my handwriting turn into a fucking perfectionism session.
I can’t stand the look of the letters of my words looking either too bold or too faded, too large or too small in comparison to the others, and I can’t stand if capital letters, especially ones with straight lines involved, such as capital E, L, and Z whenever they don’t fit perfectly above the straight blue lines on lined paper. Shit, I can’t do anything without having it be perfect. I also noticed that the obsessions and perfectionism are both the worst anytime I’m having mania…

I can’t stand how it feels to be on the depressive lows, and I don’t like being in the middle either, because it often feels numb and empty, even if I’m suicidal but hurting so bad that it makes me too numb to really realize it until something causes a depressive breakdown, but more than anything, I hate mania. And if I had to choose between being in the manic highs and the depressive lows, I’d rather just prefer to be in the depressive lows, because I wouldn’t be able to do anything because I’d feel too exhausted and too disinterested to really be obsessed with anything, unless the obsessions were out of control and somehow were capable of forcing me to do shit, even in the depressive low state. But anyway, I don’t wanna be manic, and I hate the numbness of being in the middle, and I hate depressive lows, but I’d prefer being in the depressive lows because I can’t stand how exhausting, confusing, and draining my mania is, especially with the Pure-O-OCD, on top of that. But regardless of what state I’m in, I always feel like dying, even though some days I’m more suicidal than others and some days it hits harder. But either way I’m in excruciating emotional pain, and it’s unbearable and I’ve felt like dying everyday since last November. Over 300 days and almost a year straight of the most severe and draining hopelessness, but I can’t KMS because if I tried I’d get thrown in a psych ward again, which would make my trauma, my obsessions, hypervigilance , and my suicidal feelings even worse.

But my family will never understand that, because they’re just gonna keep throwing me in places like that over and over again as long as I open my mouth about anything I’m feeling. So now I just gotta keep my mouth shut and look as happy as possible, at least on the days when I’m able to mask my feelings on the days when I’m not too obviously depressed to legitimately mask my feelings. Therapy ain’t nothing anymore, and either I’m expected to brainstorm “solutions” and just tell my therapist next week about it, or else my therapist just lets me vent the whole time as he says “nothing he can say will make me feel better” so he just listens. Then if I can’t brainstorm “solutions” on my own and shit happens, then my family goes and complains and bitches in therapy that I’m having meltdowns and shit, and then it goes into a stupid guilt tripping conversation but then my therapist tries to change how I see it by saying, “this isn’t about blame, but it’s about solutions” but yet we never even get to talking about solutions.

There is no solution. I see no solution besides death, but apparently that’s not an option since I’m fucking obligated to stay on this earth regardless of the fact I can’t do anything with my bullshit life because of this extreme social anxiety I’m gonna suffer from the rest of my life, and I’m obviously not good for anyone anyway.
I don’t understand why I’m even still here, but I gotta be, for whatever bullshit reason that is. And I’m scared to even try anymore because anytime I do, either I fail or someone else or something else fails and then shit gets worse and then I end up being depressed and hopeless all over again, and get to hating myself as to why I was even stupid enough to even make the mistake of falling for fake hope’s deadly deception.