Anxiety, Depression.....And Love?

Prologue: How it starts

I always hated it when people talked like I wasn't standing right there next to them. Like when parents used to talk to your doctors. I don't really know why or when I started hating that, I just sort of did. Not that it's a bad thing to hate that or anything, I just can't remember ever not hating.
I guess it fuels the anger, that I usually keep some what hidden. It sucks because my anger feeds into my anxiety. Maybe that's why it's so well hidden, my anxiety shows so much more. My anger sometimes sends me into a panic attack or an anxiety attack.
Do you know what it's like to have a panic attack? To feel like you're drowning and gasping for air while everyone around is breathing easy? Like you're being choked and you can feel the grip tightening? I don't know about you, but I've never looked at myself while I'm having a panic attack. If I do, I'm afraid of seeing my own hands, claws and all, wrapped around my throat.
I feel so petrified when it starts. The aching tingles running through my fingers and toes. The kind that you want to stop yet at the same time you don't. It scares the fuck out of me. I hate it, maybe more than I do myself.