I have been having this awkward feeling for a week. It doesn't stop. Is this what they call mental-breakdown?

I might took several steps to the kitchen, refilling my cup with coffee, then walked back to my desk working; but every moment seems so incomplete. I remember doing those works, striving for gain by defeating pain. Nothing really means something. Worse, they feel empty.

None of things I have done satisfies me anymore. I browsed my works in my computer, nothing impresses me. I read my posts in this blog and my folder, none of them is satisfying. I read those comments on my designs and writings, those compliments feel plain.

I have no idea about what's happening to me. If anxiety is the one that causes this, is there any piece of peace meant to stay within of me?