Selective Claustrophobia

I have decided I suffer from Selective Claustrophobia, or Situational Claustrophobia if you will.
I can handle standing crammed against the elevator wall, a tall and/or large man or woman within inches of my face. I don't mind being shoved into the back or middle of a crowded elevator. Waiting in line, at any store or amusement park, you can get as close as you'd like (with the exception of being able to feel your breath down my neck or anywhere on my body). I totally understand the Bathroom lines too; I get as close as I can to the person in front of me, because it psychologically tells us we are that much closer to the bathroom stall. I get it.
The gym is another ball of wax, my friends. Gym = sweat, body heat, and smells. When there are many open, free ellipticals, do NOT choose the one right next to me. In literal terms, you may be farther away from me than were we in an elevator. But I am sweaty and smelly, and you are sweatier and smellier, and I do NOT need to be that close to you. I get short of breath, I notice I begin to cringe on the side of my body you're closest to. I feel uncomfortable, try to hold my breath, and totally throw off my work-out zone. You'd think people would apply the standard MALE URINAL rules...leave at least one urinal/treadmill between you and the person next to you, if not two or more. Which is why it becomes especially frustrating when men do it. Come on, you boys should know better! And don't pull the I'm-trying-to-be-as-close-to-you-as-possible-because-I-want-to-hit-on-you business. Hello! We are at a gym. I am sweaty and smelly. You are sweaty and smelly. While this could work in some fantasies, chances are YOU were not the hunky guy I had in mind. And we would not be on ellipticals.
This selective claustrophobia applies to other situations where it's hot and either party is sweaty and/or smelly. Sort of a "Hygenic Claustrophobia" in a way. Any smelly, sweaty or otherwise disgusting person can get too close and my 'claustrophobia' kicks in. But it's at its worst in the gym. The ultimate breeding pool for it.
And the BREATH claustrophobia. When I can feel someone's breath on me, oh, I lose it. I cringe, shudder, my heart races, and I want nothing more than to run madly away. I can't pay attention to what you're telling me. I can't help but scrunch my face and inch away. I don't care if your breath smells like fresh wintermint, sweet vanilla honeysuckle, or cinnamon rolls. I can feel it. That means it's smellable. That means you are too damn close! (Unless it's an intimate situation, however, and the breath is invited. However, in no other case should I ever feel your breath on me.)
I can't be the only other person like this? In fact, I really thought this was a sort of universal symptom. But I am beginning to see, more and more, that I may be one of few that suffers from Hygenic/Breath/Situational Claustrophobia.
Let's go back to bubbles, people. I have my bubble. You have yours. You stay in your bubble. And I will stay in mine. Kapeesh?