PMDD in junior high school

I remember vividly one experience from seventh grade that conclusively proves to me that I've had PMDD since adolescence.

To set the stage:

In fifth grade I was singled out for ridicule and exile by two girls who had been good friends the year before (the "mean girls" / relational aggression experience). This made me totally paranoid about my relationships with my peers.

In sixth grade I went back to my original elementary school, where I didn't have any solid friendships — plus I hit puberty, which led to mild acne and some really serious body/self-image problems (body dysmorphic disorder, anyone?).

In seventh grade, I was able to lose myself in the crowd, but I also wanted the typical teenage things: friends, attention, and a boyfriend. Because of my experience in fifth and sixth grades, I was obsessed with my flaws, whether real or perceived. I'm sure my acne got worse during the latter half of my cycle, and I have never been a skinny girl. (I come from solid northern European roots, built like a brick outhouse, but with great curves that I couldn't appreciate at the time.) I just thought that I was hideously ugly and fat, and nothing anyone said could change my mind.

The scene:

This particular day, I was sitting in front of the school during lunch hour with some of my friends, getting more and more upset that I was so ugly and fat and would never be loved by any boys. I remember repeatedly asking my friends, "What's wrong with me?" I wanted them to tell me "the truth," to agree that the problem was that I was ugly and fat.

Their answer to my perennial question was always the same, that I was pretty and not fat and that nothing was wrong with me. I never believed them, I just thought they were lying to be nice to me, or even lying because it was funny to watch me suffer.

This time, however, instead of just keeping these thoughts to myself, I remember crying and flying into a rage, eventually jumping up on the bench that we were sitting on and screaming "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!?"

When I saw the alarmed looks on everyone's faces, I ran away from them and cried until I was out of tears. I wanted to die.

I can remember thinking in the back of my head as I screamed at them, "What the hell? Why am I acting like this?" I came to recognize this feeling, after my diagnosis, as a very common and easily identifiable symptom of PMDD. The "insane bitch" takes over, while the "normal" me is shoved to the background wondering who the hell is screaming and throwing things?