the 45 second rage

I have become claustrophobic. I'm not sure when, but it usually occurs when something is crowding my head. It began somewhat abstractly, a hung towel brushed against my face, or my ponytail snagged on a pair of jeans and has progressed to the point that it made me instantly angry at its presence. I raged at the friction caused by it having touched my head, until today. Today, I realized how ridiculous it would be to watch my 45 second silent rage and so, after hanging up the wet laundry and periodically bumping in to clothing heavy with the rinse cycle I began to chuckle.
Because if you think about it; being claustrophobic is avoiding closeness and avoiding closeness becomes apparent in other areas that have to do with physical proximity. I already display signs of emotional claustrophobia, in that I generally cannot handle being hugged by people. Something about the proximity to my head, I think. But not my people; Z and Sassypants, them I could hug all day but the rest of the peops. I love you, please don't hug me.
I know this is weird and I know I shouldn't feel this way towards contact, personal or inanimate. Don't get me wrong, I do like linguistic contact with people and the occasional towel, I just don't want my head touched.