Struggling with Isolation and Illness

I fear my life may not be one worth living. it certainly seems the harder I try the worse things get. There's not much for means of aid either. bedridden for so long and the isolation is killing me. I've grown to resent the people who said they would help. their words feel empty when so many of them don't follow through or even treat me like a friend. hell some don't even treat me like an acquaintance. like sorry I'm bitter but nothing but pain, sickness and isolation does a hell of a thing to a person. like why should I have to put on a show of being healthy or okay in order to maintain even a semblance of attention from the people who claimed to care. like I'm just tired of this. like and everytime I feel this shit I just question if I should just end it. because my existence has been made clear to be nothing but a burden and live in filth and shit subsiding on the scraps of care and accomodations I can pry from my partner and only person left. like it doesn't help that family means dogshit when you have uncle pedo and incel along with Karen auntie, step dad shit for brains the abusive dingus who decided the glue for his relationship to be held together was to take out his anger on me instead of my mom and my mother the walking doormat for anyone she feels smaller than. except children. especially hers. unfortunately the bitch is so desperate for a sense of control she probably does the same shit at the daycare she works at. I'm just so tired. like I was kept alive for this? why didn't they just let me kms in highschool? like they didn't want me around even fucking burned my medical records after the first time I left and that wasn't even me just going no contact or anything. my mom just burned my fucking medical records and excused the shit by saying it was "cathartic for her trauma" bitch beating the shit out the asshole abusive step father she chose to keep as a lover and the pedophile of a brother she enabled would be fucking more cathartic and less damaging long term like fuck. at least the pedo wouldn't be grooming teens anymore and her shit choice of a man would get the fucking picture that I find him appalling and a failure as a father figure. I hate the blood in my body for the sickness and abuse it brought. like I'm probably ending up with cancer at the end too and I honestly just feel sickened that the brought me into this world so selfishly only to take it out on me just for fucking being born. always too much always wanting to be cared for and loved made it clear to them I was an attention whore. never crossed their fucking minds that children need attention and they can be passionate and have needs and wants of their own. I'm just tired of fighting so hard to stay alive and have a life worth living when I can't even leave bed without help. like I get I'm not pleasant to look at and I'm not even asking people to be in the room I'm trapped in. but like help. would be nice. so I'm not just shitting in a bucket and living in filth. like the one person helping me I gave a list of 6 things to do in fucking November and we still have an unfinished list. pushing half a year as my health worsens and I've just turned to drinking at this point. I'm fucking miserable. I'm at least trying to keep the drinking semi reasonable. a difficult task when life is so deeply miserable. like I don't even have the access to kms and it's a bit frustrating to not have any way out and no help in sight. I'm so scared of how much worse it can get. I keep thinking there can't be any worse but somehow not only is it topped but I find myself in new layers of my own personal hell. if I'm cursed then I certainly don't know what to do anymore. it's at the point where I'm not sure if I should be writing up a last will and testament. cause even if I can't kill myself it certainly feels like my body is beating me to it some days. especially when I'm finding myself coughing bits of blood. I can't even get help and I'm angry because I've been trying to make shit better and it's only gotten worse. and I feel powerless. Especially knowing that without the scraps I manage to beg and receive I would probably have already been dead. like if this is my life. just living on scraps until I die then why is it so wrong to just ask someone to hand me a fucking gun after I finish a will and testament. like I don't want anyone who abandoned me at my funeral anyways. why does it matter how I go out when no one is going to help me past scraps? I can't live on scraps and considering I lost everything getting out of my family's abuse I'm not going back if it kills me. because tbh. they'd probably end up being the death of me. transphobic, racist, homophobic, ableist white trash. among a million other reasons I'm not their family no more. and they can just consider me dead. cause they fucking killed the child they had with the innocence they stole. I just wish I wasn't born. it feels like I was born to cause pain to everyone else through burden of merely being born and that in turn means pain is wrought to me 10 fold for all the burden my existence brings. like at least they weren't beating me too (not like I wasn't hit on rare occasions when they felt like I deserved to be smacked for being a child they felt disrespected by) especially considering I was most certainly born physically disabled and this bitch just ignored it so she could pretend that her kid wasn't as disabled as her or her mom. instead she set up her child for failure and I'm broken and bedridden before I'm even 25. so yeah. fuck you to my family and a big fuck you to all the false promises people make that genuinely gave me hope this could be better. I'm sick of the bullshit lipservice. if you want to help fucking do it. your words don't mean shit if they are all you give and then you fucking disappear. especially when following through never happens. like don't offer help if you don't intend to follow through. I'm just tired of begging for help. doing what I can from bed and not just getting nowhere but getting worse. and I resent the people who made so many false promises and put so much souring hope. if I die. I think my funeral I would just prefer it rather empty. I would rather it be just my partner. I don't want any of these people who let me die to act like they cared after I die. like I'm over here coughing up blood and one of them is having another kid mid genocide. I keep getting told they miss me but she didn't fucking tell me she was engaged. I found out after she was already fucking married. like wtf why. they say they're a friend and that they care but they've all but disappeared from my life, are having a second kid it sounds like time and energy wouldn't permit and then I'm just alone. like not even a text or a fucking can of soup when food is a struggle. or a fucking meme. like last I checked in they were still too overwhelmed to even have a conversation with a friend. how do they have time and energy for a kid???? like if it's an accident I get that but it doesn't even excuse the isolation and the acquaintance treatment from someone who claims to be my friend. like it's been over a year and it's like no matter how hard I try everything is just a level of suffering I thought reserved for hell. like why is the only enjoyment I am allowed at the expense of my health? why is it that I am so utterly abandoned just because I can't fucking provide. like I get it. I can't fucking leave the house and I'm both mentally and physically disabled. I didn't realize that meant I had to live in suffering and filth. not to mention the isolation and self hatred as a nice touch to the walls I'm trapped between. can't even get a fucking friend to text because I can't exactly go out and make new ones and the ones who weren't lost to me tearing up my roots from the abuse I was sprouted have since subsided. social anxiety certainly doesn't help matters.