Apartment Hunting

My parents, particularly my father, in reaction to my severe and worsening anxiety, have decided to help me get out of my current living situation by helping me attain my own apartment. Perhaps one I can share with a room mate, but a room mate of my choosing, an apartment that will be, unarguably, mine.
My own space.
Not some cramped little bedroom where I can barely cramp my life's possessions, but a place all my own. A place where I can come home and study, read, meditate, pray, and dance naked in the kitchen at odd hours of the night. No loud room mates talking loudly in the middle of the night, no having to deal with Drew's negativity every Saturday, who makes me feel unwelcome in my own home. It doesn't even feel like home to me, it feels like a place I've been crashing at for a year. I can't paint without getting yelled at, I have no room in my room for Khaliyah, so her tank remains in Z's bedroom, to his disparagement. No more Charles and his loud voice, occasional lack of personal space, and constant lack of pants. No more T.V.
It feels like hope.
I got a call today saying I was approved for a nice one bedroom apartment, in a very secure building, full of quiet people, and an on the site manager. A little like living in the dorms, but without the drama, and the room mates. I had a less-then-pleasant experience in the dorms, having to deal with a homophobic Texas bitch who lived off of drama. That wasn't fun. Texans are funny, either I get along very well with them, or we clash. I think it has something about being an Alaskan. We're bigger then them, and they can't handle it ^_^
My anxiety has gotten worse to the point of mild agoraphobia. What is worng with me?
Every breath is a struggle.
Every moment is a battle not to lose it.
One more week. I have to last one more week, that is when my first appointment with the therapist is.
One more week.