It's interesting to hear from someone else who suffers both pmdd and depression.

Accurate, indeed.

"...I start, in the middle of breathing, to sense on the margins the threat of emptiness. Time blurs. Days pass in a fog. It is morning
and then suddenly it is evening and there is nothing in between. I am frightened of contemplating time itself: the thought of tomorrow
and the day after tomorrow, the endless emptiness of time. I long to sleep and forget. Yet I am afraid of waking up, in terror of a new
day. Mornings are dark, and I lie in bed, wrapped in fatigue. I cry often. My crying puzzles me, surprises me, because there is no cause.
I open a book but the words form no meaning. Writing is impossible. My limbs are heavy, my brain is slow. Everything requires effort. To
consider eating, showering, talking brings to me a great and listless fatigue. Why bother? What’s the point of it all? And why, by the way,
are we here? What is it I know of myself? I mourn the days that have passed, the wasted days, and yet more days are wasted.

The doctor calls these symptoms but they do not feel like symptoms. They feel like personal failures, like defects..."

So very real.