Can’t live, can’t die so what do you do?

Here’s a question. What do you do if you can’t kill yourself but you can’t live either? Wait, I suppose.
I think about killing myself every day. Have done for the last two years.
I think of ways to make it look like an accident, so those who care, and there are a few, wouldn’t feel so bad. But then, dead in an accident or dead because you shot yourself, I don’t know that there’d be much difference.
I can’t go on living. I’ve got MS, and I’m basically crippled, but that’s probably not the worst thing.
My family are about to swoop in to the rescue, which should be a good thing, but it’s actually just about unbearable.
They have built a disability-friendly (they think) house. Gates everywhere. Nowhere to get outside. “Oh, we don’t expect you to move in. Yet.” But they do.
They loathe my boyfriend. Just about the only thing they haven’t done is offer him money to go away. He doesn’t understand depression, at all. He thinks everything will be just fine in the end. I don’t have the strength to make it that far.
I take anti-anxiety tablets, but whatever life I’m living is through a fog.
Can’t keep working, can’t start a new life in a new town. Can’t stand it.