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Hi again,
Yes, if you can find his number and call, that would be a good place to start...esp. since he seemed to be paying attention enough to notice there was something going on with you.
I felt "normal" for a bit. But then it went away...and now I feel like I should be holding on to a stuffed animal while I am at my desk during the day, which is just ridiculous... 
Anyway, I truly hope things get better for you.
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Thanks for the support Tractionbeam. Sometimes other people never really realize how hard we work to become even remotely normal in society. For every step they take, we gotta take a leap.
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I totally understand this! I was 17 before I was able to fully reach out to anyone for help. It's a HUGE first step, and it's scary as hell, but if you just take the plunge and do it quick, it makes things a lot easier. It's like jumping into a cold swimming pool: sometimes you just have to dive in and then let your body adjust to the cold. It's tough, but it's so worth it in the end.
I wish you the most luck in your journey for help. 
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Thanks Fallenangel, practically every year I've promised myself that I'd come out with the truth of my misery and get help, but year after year my anxiety and fears seem to work in collaboration with my depression in chaining me down indefinitely. Today I promised myself I'd call a crisis hotline, dialed the number but panicked and hung up. Gotta take the dive, gotta take the dive, gotta take the dive...
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I just want to say I can relate and I wish I had the courage you do at your age. You are incredibly articulate, in touch with what you are dealing with and, in the forum have strong communicative skills. Sometimes sharing those feelings with others in a less vulnerable capacity, i.e. here, you gain the awareness and initiative to take the next step. I agree with, the idea of, getting help from the doctor that asked if you were feeling okay. Please let us know how things work out.
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Thanks for the support Ascension, I'm more or less a stuttering mess in person
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i first tried with my school counselor when i was 16. she asked me a few questions directly (after she knew me a while) and i panicked and said "no" (e.g., are you self harming + stuff like that). when i eventually did feel comfortable i wrote her a letter.
i wonder if maybe writing out what you want help with might be a good idea, and then you could give it to your dr in the appointment if the words get too much to say themselves?
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The written word is so much more comfortable. No subtle invisible rules, no insecurity over looks, no trepidation over judgmental stares and eye contact. Yeah, I like that idea of having a pre-written note that I could bring.
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My first thought -- you express yourself beautifully, especially for someone your age. Write, write, write! Write for yourself. Eventually you may want to write for others too. Journal, write your own comic, write poems, whatever...and keep posting here!
Insight is so vital to getting better (whatever that really means). And you've got tons of it. Use your light!
Oh yeah, I wanted to second others' comments that nobody ever feels grown up! It just doesn't happen. And you're certainly not going to feel like an adult at 17, though you may feel that you're more mature than others your age. (It might be true, too.)
I don't think you've wasted any time. Experience is always useful, even when it's painful. And you're taking some exciting steps forward now.
I think it was novelist Flannery O'Connor who said that at five years old, we've already got enough material for a lifetime of novels. Your early experience means something. You never know when you'll be able to use it. If growing up means forgetting our early trauma, then it's not worth it. Nothing is lost!
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Thank you Kitten, sometimes I think the only thing keeping me back from completely breaking down is the tiny hope in my heart that my writing can one day become my salvation. Ah...whether these past years have been experience or not, I still live with deep regrets about what I could of done, where I could of gone if I hadn't been so racked with misery.
Days and days go by and I don't know where all those pages in my calender went. I don't know what I was doing at all, a part of my life that just seemed have vanished completely in a dense fog. I fear that even as I learn to grow up that same fog is just going to follow me wherever...
I'll try to keep posting around here, but consistency and motivation aren't really my best features.
I really appreciate everyone's advice and responses.
~Monsieur