My Nmom sobbed while clinging to my knees that she prayed to die several times a day because of me, and I barely supressed my grin the whole time

I'm a trans man. First, I will present some lovely childhood memories to set the stage. TW, suicide, transphobia, brief mention of physical assault

I was severly depressed at high school and attempted suicide several times. My psych told my mother about my attempt. She tells me that my psych told her. She looks at me in the eyes, and says "are you not religious? You know you'll go to hell, right?"

I try to explain to her that I thought i was such a horrible person that if I lived any longer, I'd deserve a worse layer of hell due to all the sins I'd commit. She doesn't listen, and says "You know a mother has a responsibility to raise her children religious, right? I feel like such a bad mother. I know I am not, but I still feel like it." then the words I still remember exactly: "You ruined my image of a happy family. I thought we were happy, but you took that away from me" She never asked me when, why or how I attempted. How I was feeling then or now. Only how she felt.

She had a psychiatrist at one point. According to her, that psych told her "You're a good mother. You did everything right. There was nothing more you could've done. After age of 15, you can't really affect your kids' life no matter what you do. They choose to be happy or not. It's not your fault." She told me this while I was being her therapist as usual, being forced to validate everything she says. I was 15.

You get the point. When I turned 18, I had my plans ready. I chose a public university that was halfway across the country, immediately got a part time job, started the legal process for transitioning, saved up every penny, found a decent psychiatrist, made friends for the first time, and went very low contact.

I came out to them 7 months after I left that house, after I knew I could support myself. I did it via text because they refused my psych to be in the room, "I don't need a doctor to talk to my daughter!" and refused any other communication. The text ended with "It's up to you whether you have one son or two, but you don't have a daughter. I'm *chosen name*. I hope I'll be glad to meet you." (which was never an option lol)

I'm just gonna give you the highlight of the aftermath. My Nmom started telling a story about how her dad didn't help her when she needed him to, that I was at the edge of a cliff crying out for help, and she wouldn't let me down like her dad did to her. I'll be honest, even after so many years, part of me was intrigued as to what was going on. Then she said "Let's take you to a specialist and make you a woman again" (which, in hindsight, kinda accidental ally lmao).

Now, back to the title. TLDR, my parents are transphobic and made my suicide attempt about themselves.

Time skip. I've been on T for almost 2 years. I arrive at their house for a 2 day visit just to get them to shut up, sit on the couch, and my Nmom is already crying while sitting on the ground next to the couch while my Edad is sitting next to me. I sense the incoming wave and grab the house cat as my unwilling emotional support animal.

Nmom starts talking about how she had to start a medicine because of me.

I'm currently taking 4 regularly, and cycled through 7 more.

How she feels like she failed me as a mom which she doesn't understand because she did everything right.

I remember how she pushed me against a wall, choked me, called me an ungrateful piece of shit and spit on my face because after the 6th time she said "I won't comment on what you eat if you just say 'I wanna weigh 100 kgs'", I actually said it.

She tells me how she prays several times a day for god to take her life if living means seeing me transition (happy).

I remember crying myself to sleep, wishing she actually choked me to death so I wouldn't go to hell (as people who commit suicide do apparently).

She cries and clings to my knees, snot over her face, asking how I can be so callous, how can I cause them so much pain willingly?

I remember the time she forced me to go to after school classes when I begged her, telling I didn't want to live, the poison I took actively in my stomach; and how she just said "hah, how nice" when I told her 1) I threw up a neon white liquid and it burned, 2) I got stuck in the bathroom and they called a professional to get me out and 3) The teacher didn't care about people cheating. She was referring to the teacher letting them.

How am I so selfish to not care at all about this unbearable pain I cause my parents, the people that caused my existence?

I remember hiding in my closet under the clothes because I couldn't breathe while hearing her angrily wash the dishes.

I just hugged and pet the cat. Didn't talk unless they specifically asked a question and waited for an answer, and it was a few words. At some point my dad told my mother that it was enough since they were getting nowhere and my visits have been becoming more and more sparce already. I was triggered obviously, but I felt strong. It made me so satisfied that I hurt them so much just by being happy. And I feel bad about feeling good about it. For once, I had the power. They were the ones tasting a fraction of my decades long torment.

I genuinely thought I might have ASPD for a few years because of how little their suffering and emotions affected me. I could choose to emphatize, but it wasn't automatic, and isn't it the defining characteristic of ASPD? It turns out it was just for them. I love going out of my way to help people, because my current life philosophy is that if something takes less effort for me to do than the person needing help, I'll just do it, and it's a net positive for the world.

I don't know if anyone will read all this. I guess I just want to say that nothing causes them more pain than losing power over you, seeing you happy and content. If you're financially independent, or could be, you DO NOT have to tolerate them. This is in no way to shame people for keeping contact. Humans evolved to love their parents to survive. Believing there is some humanity in them that you could reach only if you did something right hurts less than accepting they are just bad people. Because first feels like it can be fixed. If only you did something right, you can still have a world where people are inherintly good. Second makes the little kid in you face with the reality that world can be a scary place with bad people. Even when you cognitively know it, it is extremely hard to internalize.