When the people I love die, I think I am cursed or destined to be unhappy.

Throughout my life, I've struggled with severe depression, including bullying from classmates and society, insults from my parents, and the constant humiliation they inflicted upon me. Every time I share my emotional burden, the people who comforted me die. First, my grandmother died of cancer (it hadn't been detected, and she succumbed to it). Then, my cat started with a wound and died a few days later inexplicably, according to the veterinarians. And finally, my dog ​​just passed away from a seizure that seemed to come out of nowhere. It's heartbreaking that when you want to move forward, life takes away what you love most.