Discouraged and tired of fighting

I’m so scared. My OCD is getting worse and worse and I’m just contributing to it by doing compulsions at every turn. It’s a vicious cycle. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to dig myself out of this hole. I’m terrified of living, but I’m not ready to die. But, I’m even more terrified to push through with treatment. I don’t believe I’m strong enough, at least not right now. And never mind how bad my depression plays into all of this. I’ve expended every resource of support: therapy, medication, family, friends, pastor. I know it’s down to me, but I can’t do this. I feel so sick and that my mind won’t be able to handle it. I keep reading how people with OCD get to the point where they’ve had enough or hit “rock bottom” so to speak and push through. I think I hit “rock bottom” but I feel weaker then ever. Anyone been here and gone through treatment and made it out the other end? How on earth did you do it?

I don’t know if I’m ever going to get better, if I’m ever going to feel good, if I’m ever going to be able to carry on with this 10 years down the road. It’s torture with no exit, for me recently. Every time I bring up my OCD around family, they get annoyed. I can’t go to friends because it has only been of temporary relief. I am literally tearing up as I write this. I’m afraid I’m so close to convincing myself of the horrible lies my OCD has been telling me. I just can’t, I don’t know if there’s anyone or thing that can make me feel better. It’s been like lifting gigantic boulder up a steep mountain the entire day—and I could be crushed by it if not careful. If there is a god, why must he put me through this? I have already been through some many enough hard times in life, this OCD has only magnified any insecurities, anxieties, feeling of loneliness, self hate, and negative emotions.

Feeling a little despondent because I had been doing better for a few weeks, making some progress and experiencing less anxiety, but I had a bad flare this past weekend after a stressful week and now I feel like I'm back where I was a month ago and that I'll never get any better than this. I think the worst part is that it feels so isolating. I can't really talk to my friends about it because they don't have OCD and don't understand, and I feel like I'm just burdening them with crazy nonsense and alienating them because they can't relate to anything I talk about anymore. I can't talk to my family because they're tired of having to live with me and fed up with me not making any substantial progress, and me talking about my OCD just makes them angry because it means I haven't been working hard enough to get better and I should be over it by now. It's worse now that I gave them the false hope that I was doing better, but every time I relapse I let them down and they're running out of patience to deal with me. I am an emotional and financial burden to my family and I contribute nothing in return. I can barely leave the house, I'm almost 38 years old and I've never had a real job or any interests outside of my obsessions. My family is pretty much the only thing I have going for me and if I don't get better NOW, my behavior will push them away too. I see people younger than me getting help for OCD and I feel like it's just too late, this disorder is all I'll ever be and I'll never be able to recover and have an identity outside of it. I am seeing a therapist but no matter how much they tell me I'm working hard or making progress, I just can't see it and I'm sure they'll give up on me soon.