make me a deal

Today I realized I need drugs. A shit ton, to be precise. Not illegal drugs, I'm no schmuck, just a sad sack of a human shell consumed with anxiety. But these days there are overly educated doctors who will listen to your woes for two minutes, and like magic, drugs are in your hands. I went to a general practitioner for what I thought was asthma, and left with a prescription for clinical depression. Thanks for listening (jackass). I am considering going to a psychiatrist for anxiety, and it worries me (ugh, more anxiety about treating my anxiety). Will drugs be the cure all for my rapid heartbeating, sweats, shakes, blushing and isolation? Or will I end up addicted to xanax, hanging at the corner of a walgreens with my dog, begging for  money while I hum showtunes to bystanders? I fear forgoing treatment will develop my lack of social skills into fulltime house arrest, with my sole outlet being my computer, my only friends being two old cats and surviving on government assistance. Help!