I knew something was wrong the evening of my breakdown. It was nearing Christmas, I was just starting a long anticipated three-week vacation from work, I had so many great plans…and here I was standing in my kitchen at 9pm, covered in flour, and crying. You see, my four-year-old son had been begging me for days to bake gingerbread cookies with him. He’d been going through a gingerbread man phase since reading a book, and this was all he’d been asking to do. Day after day, I kept promising him that we would bake some “tomorrow”, but everyday I’d disappoint. Not because I didn’t want to. I really wanted to! But I’d been feeling so run down and sick that I just couldn’t. This sickness had started back in September and for some reason I just couldn’t shake it. Months of feeling this way left me feeling so drained. So everyday, rather than play with the kids and bake cookies, I wanted to do nothing. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to lay down on the couch, and then I wanted to sl...