Two Weeks of Panic

I have two weeks until I need to be finished with my screenplay.  Two weeks until the deadlines for two of the nine competitions/fellowships i'm submitting for.  The dates slowly roll out until the beginning of May.
I having serious anxiety attacks here.  Sometimes they're full blow panic.
I can't decide what i think anymore.
I'm so invested, so well versed in every scene, every line, that I can no longer continue to even pretend to look at it objectively. 
Sometimes I read through and I love it. I can actually picture making the semi finalists for the Nicholl Fellowship.  I can see myself at Sundance's writers lab. 
Other times, I can only picture the reader pitching it into the trash at page seven.  Then laughing and downing a bottle of wine to forget about it.  Then lighting the script on fire in the waste basket, using the last drops of wine as fuel for the fire.
I like to think of it as Waitress meets 500 Days of Summer with a dash of Juno (and oddly, no pregnancy).  But then I wonder if someone else reads it and sees.....  I dont even know.
D-wars?   But it would be worse, because D-wars knew what it was, and my script is just pretending.
I'm calculating the fees.  Between copyrighting and entry fees it's really starting to add up.
Two weeks.