That's too bad, but I have a hopeful story for you.
I have a few years of high school and college French fortified by a couple months spent living in Lyon with a French family. Other than an hour between CDG and the TGV station, I'd never been to Paris until 2016, which was long after my French studies.
That 2016 trip was disappointing. I'd mentally rehearse the restaurant order while looking at the menu, or check Google Translate for the exact words describing the thing I needed from the store, and I had the same experience as you: a strong feeling I was exceedingly boring to the other person, and please let's switch to the easy path to get this drudgery over with. Speaking French was a big attraction to why I was looking forward to going to France. It was a letdown.
But three years later, in 2019, I found myself back in Paris, and this time I had several successful non-phatic discussions with natives that I'd characterize as enjoyable in any language. What changed?
Strangely enough, the change was learning Mandarin, which I started doing last year. Aside from my being an adult, Mandarin is hard for anyone to learn as a second language, so I never expected to reach conversational fluency in it. And my resulting attitude every time I'm talking to a native Mandarin speaker is "well, fuck it, I'm never going to be good at this, but I have to start somewhere, so let's just try to assemble what I'm thinking out of the 500 words I know, and see what happens." It's a totally different attitude from my well-studied, well-schooled, well-read, but not well-practiced French brain. And while I still concede I'll never be fluent in Mandarin, I'm saying an awful lot more to Mandarin speakers than I would have a single year into my French studies.
This lack of inhibition led into a better experience in France. I didn't bother trying to construct full, stammering sentences in restaurants. I just said the numbers and nouns and gave one-word answers to whatever the server asked -- insisting on switching to English would have actually prolonged our time together. But in circumstances where conversation would have helped pass the time -- cab ride where the driver looks like he's wondering something about us, or standing in line where all of us were clearly confused by the same situation, etc. -- I just went for it, with the same fuck-it attitude, and it worked out. We had our short, meaningful, optional conversations that scratched the "I spoke real French in real France" itch.
In short, yes, unfortunately, the problem really is you (and me). But it's fixable. Stop thinking "I'm about to speak French." Just let it happen.