*grinds teeth*

Ha ha ha, anxiety is so much fun. Shut up, brain. Planning to go to Georgia and have Christmas with my family and see my mom for the first time in a year and my dad and brother and sister-in-law and niece and nephew for the first time in twenty months should be a happy thing. Not a hamster wheel of thoughts about how much money we're spending and how Yeats is going to be bored and hate me for making him do this (he suggested this, brain, have I mentioned shut up?) and what will we do with the cats and what if something goes wrong and how dare I be so selfish and take up half of Yeats' Christmas break in travel, and really I am a terrible person and a crap wife and they all secretly hate me, and maybe I should just go away. Somehow.

This is not right, and I know that it's not right, but I can't stop thinking it. I see the doctor in two weeks. Maybe we need to take a look at my birth control, or revisit Zoloft, or something.