"A practical man can always make what he wants to do look like a noble sacrifice of personal inclinations to the welfare of the community. I've decided that I've got to be practical myself, and that's one of the rules. How about breakfast?" The Pirates of Ersatz, Murray Leinster

From your question I noticed a few things. Nominally, I completely agree with @mxyzplk's answer, so this should be in the way of an addendum.

It sucks to be the leader

In a RPG, it just completely sucks to be the leader. Most players when confronted with a plan, remember about fifteen percent of it for the first fifteen minutes. But they'll certainly remember when you deviate. Leaders get no additional responsibility and no perquisites, but they get all the blame.

In the military this is mitigated with the clear distinction between commissioned and non-commissioned officers. Not least because the isolation provides both support structures and necessary emotional distance (to a degree, of course). Being "elected" leader, especially with the pack dynamics of typical werewolf games is an extremely dubious honour that I'd flatly reject.

The fact that while you may be leader in character but not dominant over the player group makes things even stickier. You need to assert authority within the realm of the narrative without actually having that authority in reality. Again, something that will cause friction and resentment any way you cut it.

Depressing environments bleed emotions into play

The world of darkness does what it says on the tin. Having played in a horror game myself recently, the iconic themes of the world of darkness do not make for "happy" or, for that matter, validating game experiences in the main. (And, if they do, it's a violation of genre.) When you are faced with the stresses of being "leader" which are compounded by the stressors of the philosophies baked into the setting, no wonder you're having a rough time.

Some solutions:

On leadership:

Fundamentally, a gaming group is a relationship. Bad relationships that do not provide validation are a drain on mental and emotional resources. When they don't work, cut them off or change them. In your case, I'd play a game that's a bit lighter in tone and focus: a nice traditional dungeon crawl or similar heroic fantasy.

I'd also reject the leader role for all the reasons I outlined above. Or, if they force it upon you, demand the perquisites and authority that is concomitant with it: they can't have it both ways.

On the group:

I've found that group character creation creates a far more cohesive group. By having entangled backstories, the group can draw upon a deeper understanding of each others' characters, creating the basis for empathy and respect within the characters, instead of the necessary simulacrum imposed by players.

By articulating desired tropes, a "palette" (as Microscope) calls it, before the game begins, you'll be able to shape the narrative of the group in directions that you want to play. This allows you to avoid the nominally depressive tropes that come default with the setting (not limited to world of darkness) and describe a source for future characters to connect with the current group. Replacement characters, if they tie into the shared narrative, will continue to maintain the tropes and social trust.

Be practical:

As players, we shape our narratives to an amazing degree. Emulate Bron Hoddan in the Pirates of Ersatz. While playing, you will be aware of the desired practical outcome that will provide validation and satisfy your personal goals. With that outcome in mind, you then frame it in terms that suit both your character's narrative and the expected narratives of the other players such that they will act to reinforce your framing and thereby your outcome. If you fight their narrative control by "being a loner," it is difficult to achieve your own goals. If you help them work as a team and appear to sacrifice nobly on their behalf while executing your own goals... the entire process is smoother and more effective.

Note that I am not saying to lie. Instead, consider the causal constructions of your actions, the explanations for those actions to be an aspect of the role * separate* from the actions themselves. By manipulating the framing as well as the actions, you can provide the necessary hooks for the other players to support your version of reality, rather than rejecting it and, by extension, you.

Postscript

Looking at your comments to other questions, you should absolutely give this group two last tries. In the first trial (of one or two games), try a heroic romp where you can be "Big Damn Heroes." Require the players who need the spotlight be leader. In the second trial (again of one or two games), try a game where players can intrigue against each other (I'd recommend Ars Magica, but then again I recommend it for most things. Most games support PvP intrigue quite ably.) If neither game provides the validation you need and the spotlight the other players need, move on. Before you do anything, take a month break, sit down, relax, and try to game with some strangers. I'm pretty sure that if you go looking for games in the chat section of this site... someone will oblige. For more on the framing problem, I'd quite recommend Rule 34 by Stross, as it describes it in a delicious narrative context.

There's no such thing as senseless violence, according to the one who commits it. Characters who kill or torture without at least an internal justification are crazy, not evil. You don't have a reason to kill people in the party or at random, so you don't. This doesn't make you nonevil.

Also remember that just because you're Evil doesn't mean you're a villain. Many Evil characters have no ambitions higher than their own survival and/or comfort; they don't aspire to great power, nor to purge the world of the target of their hate. They're just trying to get by, not so different from the rest of us.

The traditional list of Seven Deadly Sins was originally compiled not so much as a list of inherent sins, but a list of reasons that people sin. This makes it a great source of motives for Evil characters. I prefer to expand the list to nine, adding Fear as Wrath's twin in the fight-or-flight reflex, and Despair because it was actually in the original list; Sloth replaced it later.

Avarice: The key to happiness is having things. I will have it all.

Envy: I deserve it, not them. I will have it from them.

Gluttony: Pity those not at the top of the food chain. I will never be in that position.

Lust: I want to do it all, and I will let nothing get in my way.

Pride: I must be better then them: so much so that my superiority is never even questioned.

Sloth: I just don't want to do it. Let them do it for me. If they refuse, make them do it for me.

Wrath: They will never hurt me again. I will punish them for what they did, and leave them unable to do it to anyone else.

Fear: They must not be allowed to hurt me. (Note the lack of an again here: this is one of the big differentiators between Fear and Wrath, but it can make a huge difference in the character).

Despair: I just want the pain to end. Giving it to others helps.

Also keep in mind that these are core motivations. Any one of them will need to be elaborated upon. What is it? Who are they? How does the character plan to achieve this goal? Also worth noting is the lengths that your character goes to to hide her motives. Evil characters often prey upon one another's weaknesses, and while Wrath-type characters might not worry about seeming weak due to their motives, Sloth-type and Fear-type characters likely would. These folks are likely to construct a facade, often but not always based on Wrath, as a matter of posturing.

Your character sounds like a Wrath-type, with a focus on the undead. Because her main focus is on something that is not so amenable to the survival of humanity in general, she can get along decently well in society, and even be a very useful sort of person to have around. Some might even mistake her for heroic. But she has a twisted fight-or-flight reflex: any slight or injury, real or imagined, runs the risk of touching on that trauma, for reasons that make sense only to your character (if they even make sense to her). She might lash out disproportionately at small threats, or even against things she mistakenly believes to be threats, but are not.