I'm dissolving into madness

I don't want to feel anymore. If I keep feeling I'll surely kill myself or make myself so sick that I'll never be the same again. There's very little left in me that wants to continue living. I've spent almost more of my life wanting to die than I have wanting to live. I can't figure anything out. I don't know what to do, who to talk to, where to go. Everything's piling up around me and I want to cry and scream and shout but that never fixed anything and so I just continue bottling it up inside of me, and the pressure gets more and more and more and worse and worse and worse until I'm screaming inside, "Help! Someone help! I can't take it anymore, it hurts too much!" but I just keep on silently going about my day, hiding myself away, fleeing at every chance, ignoring every thought and feeling I have until I can't even acknowledge my own thoughts and feelings inside my own head. I have to throw everything to the side just to keep sane, just to keep up the act. I contemplate suicide every waking moment, determined to keep living only by the sense of horrid responsibility that follows me everywhere I go. I can't kill myself, the people at work will be inconvenienced. I can't kill myself, I still have many months of rent to pay. I can't kill myself, I'd just wind up leaving someone with Onion, and I wouldn't want to force another pet on someone. I can't kill myself, I couldn't bear to think about my grandmother being sad. I'd be the worst person in the world, to make my grandmother cry.
It's times like these I wish I could just walk across the house, go in and say "Help me. I'm sad. I want to die." but I can't anymore. I can't do anything anymore. I don't have that privilege anymore. So instead I get to sit in bed and cry as quietly as I can, blow my nose as quietly as possible, and just think to myself. Think about all the things that could have gone right, all the things that I fucked up in this life, and all the things I can't have anymore.
I just want to die. I just want to be loved the way I want to. I want to be in someone's arms, and they can't be hers, and I don't know what to do. I keep telling myself I'm fine, I keep trying to smile, to pretend I'm okay, but it hurts so badly. I can hardly breath when I think about it.
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Great. Now there are more people in our house. I cancelled my plans today to try and feel better. Now there are so many people in our house and M won't leave me alone. I want to kill her. Every time she gets close to me I want to scream. She keeps trying to touch me, trying to comfort me, and I can't stand her. She's suffocating me, and I hate it. I wish I wasn't here. I wish I was dead.