I'd rather not die but I'm blind to my options

I was born with a genetic disorder, lived with a terminal illness, and the conservative estimate seems to be that I have a year left.

I lost my father in a horrible accident that we had to watch take place. It wasn't until years later I realized how bad it messed me up. Things that had nothing to do with the accident were nevertheless affected, like how sensitive I got over relationships I had with people close to me.

I've spent my whole life, since childhood really, aiming for a career, worked hard and was a pretty successful student through high school, two colleges and a certification program related to my field.

I graduated into the recession and there was one opportunity that my family didn't support (I'd have to move to another country) and a whole lot of scam artists. I sank to a low point, being irritable and snappy.

I was able to get two temp jobs, one which treated me poorly and kicked me out with a month left on my contract despite outperforming the permanent hires (this gave me unemployment to float off, though, so not all terrible). This managed to neatly coincide with raise/promotion time, so they cited a lack of money to keep us on, and also, it wasn't feasible for them as their work coming in would be inconsistent.

At the other they practically held a parade for me while I was doing it, but it was designed to only last a few months anyway, and nothing ever came of an offer to continue on through the company we were doing the work for.

I've essentially averaged two or three medium-length hospital trips a year, except this past year where I've had to be miserably ill because while I quite positively was able to received a mandate insurance plan, I am a for-sure risk for the company so my premium is hundreds upon hundreds of dollars a month. Drugs are more, plus a pharmacy deductible.

I am intelligent and kind and while I can only see it sometimes from some angles, and only now that I'm out of my akward years, not bad looking (7/7.5ish?), and all my friends respect me for the kind of person I am, but no female has ever expressed any interest in me. I haven't even heard about it behind their backs, like from a friend of theirs. I am almost thirty and haven't held hands, kissed, dated, certainly not anything beyond that.

I made friends very slowly, and for the most part kept them as I moved on through life, but I am so dialed into who I am personality-wise (wordy, neurotic, dry sense of humor, thinking about things that no one else bothers with) that I have to force myself into self-awareness and eliminate minor and major problems over the course of years, and as a result even they have limited tolerance for me and I have to be the one who does the keeping in touch 97% of the time.

I had one female friend who I'm not sure why I was so attached to her, but she trusted me to be around her and to act as 'celebratory' as I always did, and misinterpreted it as feelings for her one time. Even after that, and time to let it sink in and work it out, she still to this day -- if I had a real problem -- would bend over backwards for me, but there's no relationship to be had there because like everyone else, she's moving on and settling down and she's nearly impossible to get a hold of or receive responses from.

Even after I moved I made new friends and saw them move away not long after. I have another friend who I used to have as a college roommate and wound up offering me work to help me get by, but since she's got so much to do herself, and I only get better in 10% increments, I hardly see the work and her busy life and her own settling down means we have NO friendship to speak of, and she no longer treats me with even a tiny amount of respect. She acts like she hates me without ever saying the words.

Because I didn't like not being able to pay my bills, I took up a new skill that had nothing to do with what I went to school for. This helped, and I tapped the people I knew to help get me started finding work in that area. I keep getting better at it, but it's a mix of small work growing and then fading and dying, or people saying "hurry up and wait" and never showing or outright telling me to go F myself because they were just taking advantage.

My medical debt has brought me back to living with my parents. They are courteous about it and don't act like I'm a burden, but of course I am. I do as much as I can to help, not creating extra issues or use of resources, keeping the place safe and clean, etc. But there's only so much growth you can do in a vacuum.

The stress of measuring up to my own standards, and in being patient, has brought me to major self-harm twice. Strangely (or not) it's always something survivable, like punching or cutting ever so lightly with a tiny balsa wood saw, or sabotaging academic situations.

So I feel like I keep working hard and seeing no benefit, being a decent person but being alone or scorned, living in a world where increasingly people aren't accountable to themselves, with less than no money (I tried getting, and have used, a card to establish credit so I could make some effort towards moving out)...and no job prospects that I can know for sure will pan out, or be consistent, or ever keep up with the couple major bills I have.

If this is life, it leaves me rather dimensionless, so I'm not sure what the purpose of me is, especially after defying odds to live so damned long. If I'm going to die soon, people will hurt either way, and probably yes would hurt more if I offed myself, but I'd try to find a way to be clever about it and I'm on the fence as far as if it would be fair to stick around only for the horrible pain and discomfort of going naturally.

Of course it's selfish, but like someone with an addiction or even a simple lack of self-discipline, I don't give a shit past a point. Saving my parents the pain out front is pretty much the only thing that saves me at my lowest points (this seems to be a common concept).

I've tried letting go of so much. Expectations in relationships, the difficulty of doing normal-people things with half a body, and am proud for the progress I've made. But if it all amounts to squat, who cares? Maybe it's enough that I've lived as an example to make something from nothing.

I used to have awesome insurance through my folks when I was a student, and have been to therapy three times. The first time, I was told that I was a liar and asked to leave because she didn't think I was around the week before to sign up for that very appointment (I don't know she was thinking either, since I did and was there right that moment accordingly) so that started off on a bad foot, and she was insanely aggressive, like whatever she thought happened she took personal. I later found out she had problems of her own.

The other lady I went to twice, and she thought highly of me and it felt good to get the stuff out but she wanted me to be referred to an actual psychiatrist because after two sessions where I was very civil apparently I was beyond her help. I don't have a chemical imbalance, I just lack the resources to cope with some of my issues. I think, perhaps because of my dad dying, my intellectual growth outpaced my emotional growth, so I'm like a retarded (denotatively, no offense meant) version of who I should be.

I am willing to explore options, but talking to experts, talking to friends and family, it all just passes the time. I will play any game so long as I know the rules, and I don't even care how it turns out, but I want a fair shake at life and I'd rather it actually START in some capacity before it ends.

Does anyone have any idea how to dig out?

UPDATE: For what it's worth I am about to interview for a job that might be able to relieve some of the financial stress. Fingers crossed!

UPDATE 2: Interview seemed to go really well, then I found out that I lost one of my other jobs and have a week to come up with 200 bucks. Fingers crossed! =)