If my life was a play, it would be a Greek tragedy. I haven’t led the happiest of lives. Since childhood, I’ve struggled in pretty much every way possible. With my weight, with making friends and getting along with others, with my self image, with securing an education, getting a decent job, earning what I was worth, just to name a few. I lost my father to cancer at the age of thirty. His illness eclipsed and overshadowed the years I was supposed to be having fun, my twenties. Instead, I was focused on his sickness. Then, over the last year, as I’d finally been making some promising headway at achieving some of my dreams, my mother died suddenly, leaving a house with a hefty mortgage that my sister and I are struggling to pay. My mother and I were at odds most of my life, so I was shocked at the awful hole she left when she was gone. This entire year has been a struggle. No longer having parents