Definition: Given a real-life anecdote of a complex ethical situation, generate a suitable title that describes the main event/root cause of the situation. Imagine that the given text is a social media post, and you have to write the title of the post, so the users can decide to read the main text or not.
Input: When I was 16, I broke down in my kitchen in front of my parents saying that I hate myself, I want to die and that I hate feeling so shit all the time, I need help.   
I only got help by the time I was 24. 

&amp;#x200B;

During that time gap, I was pretty much ignored by my mother, assumingly because she didn't want to acknowledge that there was something wrong with me. She pretty much buried her head in the sand and pretended I was fine, although I really wasn't and would NEVER bring up the topic of me being depressed, with the only exception being her telling me to "just smile and be happy."  
My father constantly bullied me, even before my break down. I grew up scared of him and hating him. But during all this stuff about my mental health, I was told that I was "Just making it up" and to "suck it up" and that I need to "nut the fuck up" because I was upsetting my mum.   


We did get me an appointment to see a therapist back when I first broke down, but only had the 1 session and was then told that said therapist was moving away to africa, so it was the first and only session they were going to do for me.  
During this session, the therapist INSISTED that my parents be in the room with me, so they were there for me telling the therapist about how bullied and ignored I felt.   
The whole situation caused my mother to cry when we got home and my father instantly berated me for having this whole situation happen. Everything was my fault and I was a horrible person for making my mother cry.  


After that day, any discussion about getting my mental health sorted stopped. No talks about Drs, nothing. The only person who would talk to me about it, was my aunt, (who just so happens to be an anti-vaxxer, so yeah...)  who also has depression. But the problem with this was how my aunt basically scared me away from getting antidepressants cause she told me how they made her a completely different person and there were a tonne of side effects and I'd end up like her.  
She ended up buzz cutting her hair away multiple times and basically just being all over the fucking place, mentally.   
So I was terrified of antidepressants. I didn't want to turn into my aunt, who was just batshit at this point.  


So I went without help for several years. As a result, I had 0 energy or motivation during my GCSE and A-Level  exams, and I just passed all of them.   


After college, I developed gallstones, of which the constant pain caused me to lose all my hair, I could hardly eat, move or do much of anything without just being in horrible pain. During this, my depression just got worse and worse.  
I just went through every day being okay if something were to happen to cause my death.  
3 years later and 1 gallbladder down, I was then diagnosed with a sliding hiatus hernia. This basically causes me similar pain to what I had with the gallstones. Only this is permanent, since Drs have stated that they really don't want to do surgery to fix it unless they REALLY have to.   


During all this medical problems though, at 20, I found this lovely guy who's literally the light of my life. I really love him and hope to spend the rest of my days with him.  


But I also felt so sorry for him for having to deal with me and how bad my depression made me. But, he was the one who finally gave me the courage to go get antidepressants because I really didn't want to drag him down this dark, scary hole with me. Yes, it took a while at 24, but I got there.  


I got counselling, as well as antidepressants. I was on the up, I can say they really helped me.  
All the while, I got 0 encouragement from my family about any of this, apart from my grandmother. She's my best friend and makes it 100% clear that I'm her favorite.   
My aunt kept trying to scare me away from Drs, my mother kept burying her head in the sand and my father just plain ignores me at this point.  


I'm now playing assistant for my mother with her childcare business, while she goes through multiple surgeries for a shopping list of ailments. I practically have to do everything when she either can't use her arms or her eyes, depending on the surgery. When she's in a period of being ok, we tag team. All the jobs I either fully take over or tag team, is pretty much everything apart from laundry because my dad insists that he does it.  

So when mum is out of commission, I do all the cooking, cleaning and all the physical stuff with the kids, such as picking them up and loading them into the car, or lifting them on to the changing table. Basically all the physical stuff. Which with my hiatus hernia, can actually be really painful sometimes. Yet I still do it.   
When mum is ok, we share the load.   
Despite all this, I'm constantly told by both parents that, although I'm "invaluable", I'm still "fucking useless and lazy" for not washing up two plates a bowl and a mug one day cause I was waiting for more so it's not so much water used. 

I get this sort of shit constantly. All the while, my dad and bother do nothing to help.  


But recently, my SO has been diagnosed with depression and severe anxiety and it's like my family's attitude has done a total 180. I would joke that my family liked my SO more than me, but now I'm starting to believe it.  
My mum and dad constantly ask about my SO and ask if he's okay and how he's doing with getting the help he needs and are now constantly asking me about what things they can send him to cheer him up, etc.   
Always offering treats and presents and a place to stay.  


I'm happy they love him and everything... But, wth?   
Why is he getting all the love and support while I got nothing? I get so sad, angry and frustrated about this series of events that I'm starting to well up as I type.  
I've been helping my SO and doing everything I can to help and support him during this process. We have gaming and/or movie nights, we indulge in MTG and all sorts of things. I even read him short stories to help him get to sleep when his anxiety is keeping him awake.   


But the fact he's getting so much love and attention from my parents is really frustrating me. I'm not mad at him, I'm mad at my parents.  


AITA?

getting sad, angry and irritated that my parents are giving my so way more support whilst he's dealing with his mental health issues, than they ever did for me