I'm exceptionally grateful for two friends who have stuck with me through thick and thin, one I've known for knocking on 30 years, and we all have the same sort of "bad luck" in common so we can relate and pitch and whine in a safe space. We'd all crawl over broken glass for each other, or help bury a body if necessary.
Other friends who are more casual just don't know what to do with me, and I get it, it's fine, although there's a sort of Typhoid Mary vibe, or wariness as though I'm an unexploded bomb or something.
A few people have treated me like a specimen, and tried to analyse why I seem to attract this stuff. Aside from the occasional musing that I may have been a terrible person in a past life, or maybe it's cos I was born on a Wednesday I try to avoid such analysis - because shit just does happen sometimes and I don't need a diagnosed persecution complex on top of everything else.
Another downside is that it makes me seem a bit gullible or naive, because I empathise with other tales of woe. I'm getting better at being discerning as I've gotten older, but I have definitely been an easy mark for proven unscrupulous types in the past.