Visiting the Vet

Tomorrow I take Sam in for his annual check-up, and as usual I’m a nervous wreck.  This year is especially bad, because Sam is the same age Bailey was when he died.  My anxiety is sky high and the Klonopin isn’t helping.  I’m tempted to take two or three, but I know I shouldn’t so I’m holding out.  I just want to zone out and not feel right now, because I’m so scared something will be wrong with Sam.  It feels like everything is out of control and I’m so frightened of losing him that I can’t think about anything else.  I’m going to go in there, and the vet will say he’s dying, and I’ll lose him.  And it will be my fault, because I didn’t deserve the love and devotion he’s given me.

And now I’ve said this all out loud and I’m going to make it happen.  oh my God.

I know I’m catastrophizing.  I know I’m in the grip of … something.

Please think good thoughts for me, because obviously I’m having trouble doing it myself.






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