I am a zombie; not in its traditional sense

I believe I were a good person, far from perfect but human. I have never violated the 10 commandments (not that I am a religious person) and I can say I have no regret in my past 4 decades of living a not so pleasant life. 
However, I don't always do things that are in alignment with my passions; which I don't even know what they are to be honest. I don't practise self-love by smoking and no exercises. I am notoriously known for my brutal honesty and 'abnormality'. 
I seem to be cold-blooded in the eyes of many but how can I possibly care about others when I have difficulty surviving? There is the financial problem, health problem, work problem, never mind doing it all alone. How can I be generous when my debt is up to my neck? 
There are those who think I live in a world of my own and have no interest in others. Maybe that is only my way of keeping sane in this over-populated world where everyone thrives on gossips, excessive consumerism, and competition. The success of Facebook and other social media platforms proves it. Count me out if that is how the world works in this century and call me whatever names you wish.
Being the odd one out by living by my truth doesn't work when it comes to social connection. People either love me the way I am or wish me dead the second we meet. I'd rather be alone than having to put up a facade to impress. Mind games are for the gutless. I do apologise when I am wrong but being accused for doing something which I didn't is another story. 
I feel like a zombie these days. No, not the kind which is infected or cursed, flesh-eating, lifeless, half-alive, reanimated corpse that serve and have no purpose (although they are close enough similarities). Instead, I dream and wish too much to the point of wasting time that could be spent producing and doing rather than consuming and waiting. I feel stuck in this quagmire and I am too tired to pull myself out. I am still allowing my fear, doubt and uncertainty to reign and that sucks. I am feeling more and more frequently that I am doing things without purpose. I don't hate what I do on a daily basis but it's becoming a chore which I resist. Living a meaningless life is simply not fun. 
Being a good person doesn't mean you're treated with appreciation. A life of stability, mediocrity and comfort seems to be the end goal. I guess I am no longer clear about my passions which is the underlying reason of my being existing and not living.