My kids are going to Germany next year.  Or, at least they're planning on it.  They are getting their passports soon and are going to be working on saving money until then so they have plenty of money to bring with them.  Neither one has been on a plane before, nor have they ever been out of the country.  And both have severe anxiety.  But all their friends live in other countries, most in the UK, and they are all meeting up next summer for a concert, which they all bought tickets for.  And they'll be sharing an AirBnB in Germany for however long.  

Am I worried?  Oh yes.  I am terrified.  But I can't let my own anxiety dictate their lives.  They are adults and while they live under our care, they are still in charge of their own lives.  And I had always planned on taking an airplane at their age to go somewhere, but I never did, and now, I never will.  I don't want them to live with regret of not even trying.  Granted, it may come down to the wire and they may not go, but that's okay.  At least they tried.  And they will get loads of life experience from now until then doing what they need to do in order to go.  So that's worth something, too.  

Anxiety sucks.  And being autistic you will always have anxiety.  It's makes up a part of who you are.  My husband and I and both kids have it (ASD), as does my ex, my hubby's parents, and both my birthparents.  And, I do suspect my mother has it, too.  It would explain a lot (ASD mixed with NPD is never good).  It will manifest in different ways for different autistics, but there's always some, somewhere in our lives.  For many of us, it's constant.  My oldest son got on meds at 17 and it changed his life.  I tried meds after that (I have a phobia of taking medication) and none worked for me and some I have very bad reactions to (not like allergic reactions, but brain reactions--like hearing voices--yay me!).  In fact, the meds my son is on are the ones who give me the bad reactions.  Good thing he didn't inherit whatever DNA I have that causes that part.  My hubby's on meds, too, but they don't work for him as much as they do for our oldest.   My youngest is on meds, but very minor ones that also help him sleep.  And I am on nothing.  But my oldest has fast acting meds (not xanax, thank goodness) that work wonders for him when he's having breakthrough panic attacks, so that will help him on the plane ride over.  

Right now I am fully accepting we spent money on these tickets and they won't end up going.  I fully expect that.  But see...I am not like my mother.  I will not squash his (or either of their) dreams just because the most likely scenario won't work out for them going.  I want to give my children wings, not keep them in a cage (though the cage is nice and calm and safe and peaceful, but still).  I refuse to tell them "Hey, you know you won't go anyways, so why waste the money??".  But the thing is, I don't actually know that.  I can make an educated guess, sure.  But that doesn't make it real or fact.  I want to keep my brain in the "What if they actually go?" mode.  And how wonderful that would be for them.  How memorable it would be.  How they'd have that story to add to their life story to tell their grandchildren one day (or someone's grandkids-I can't predict if they will have kids of their own or not).  That's the mode I will stay in.  I will do everything to help them actually go.  I will remind them renew their licenses, get their passports, apply for jobs, etc.  I will be fucking supportive, goddammit!  Even though every fiber of my being is terrified of them doing something so big.  

The first time they went somewhere on their own was going to the grocery store with our neighbor on bikes.  The entire time I was TERRIFIED and almost cried.  Yes, I am so horribly anxious that I could not stop pacing at my window, waiting for them to come home.  And they were fine.  

The first time I left them home alone, due to the fact my mother refused to watch them, even though they were old enough to take care of themselves and entertain themselves, I was glued to my phone the entire time.  "What if they burn the house down?"  "What if someone breaks in?"  "What if they hurt each other?"  I was more scared of them fighting than anything, but they didn't.  And twice a month, during our anxiety support group meetings (funny, right?) for the next four years, they stayed home alone from then on, and never once broke anything, got hurt, and nobody broke in.  

Now, could something bad have happened either of those times?  Yes, of course.  And my kids could go to Germany next year and never come back, too.  But, they run that risk every time they leave the house, with or without me.  They could also get covid and bring it home with them.  There are a million scenarios in which terrible things could happen to any of at any given moment.  But, I can't let that be what motivates me to stop them from going to the country they've always wanted to see and to see a band in their home country that they love so dearly.  I can't be my mother, my father, my mother-in-law, or my father-in-law.  I can't be a shitty parent who lets my own fears and my own bullshit stop my kids from doing things in life.  

Look at me.  I am 46 years old and I am scared of everything.  I was taught to be scared of everything.  I was told I couldn't be anything in life or do anything in life.  I was kept down by my parents' fears and judgments.  And I missed out on so much.  Granted, I didn't miss out on being a mom (I've enjoyed all of it).  And I don't actually regret my life at all.  But still.  I can't let my own bullshit give my kids regrets, either.  Granted, if they choose not to go, I have to let them know it's not something to regret.  That someone else will fill it's place in their lives.  Maybe someone else.  Life happens either way and living with regret is not something anyone should do (unless you've done assholey things-but then you make amends so you can stop regretting it).  

I am okay with them going or not going.  I don't care how much money they waste.  They will try to push themselves out of their comfort zones.  They will test themselves to see what they're ready to do, or not.  And that's life experience all its own.  

I am terrified of them going.  But I will do what I always do in times of terrible fear: I will will sit and disassociate until they come back LMAO.  Then when they call and say "Come get us from the airport", I will let out the breath I will have been holding and all will be well again.  But that's what being a real parent is: Facing your fears by letting your kids be their own people.  And encouraging them to do so, even though it's terrifying.  

Next week we'll be getting my youngest son's new ID (his is expired) so they can work on getting their passports.  Then my oldest will be looking for a full-time so they can save money to go.  

So much change.  But that's a good thing.  We need change right now.  And this will be the stepping stone to get there, even if they don't end up going (who knows if they'll even like the people they'll be going with by then).  

Sigh.  Now it's time to relax and not think about it until I have to.