Did I develop PTSD? (Long Story)

I was sexually abused when I was 9 on the bus by a kid near my age. I can't remember the main details, but I can remember hearing his breath, being cornered to the wall and trying to escape.

This went on for half a year. It's weird because I can remember the seat number, his face, and the time period but not the actual abuse. I remember very small pieces of it. Like what I listed in the paragraph above. I'm 15 now, and have had to miss out on class on multiple occasions because I would have panic attacks in class when the school would discuss rape. Not sexual harassment, but rape. Which is odd. I don't think I was raped, but I guess I had a similar experience. I was extremely jumpy. My parents watched me develop into someone they didn't know. I couldn't trust anyone, and for years I hated men. I didn't even trust my own parents. I was always so afraid of pain.

In January of this year, I was sexually assaulted. (or abused? Again.) For 3 months, but by a girl who couldn't take the hint that I was straight. She would get really close to me and try to kiss me, and hold me really tight despite my efforts to run and get away. I would tell her to stop, but she wouldn't. She had seizures based on stress and calmed down whenever I was around her. I kind of HAD to be around or else she'd get hurt. I couldn't reject her advances or else she would get another seizure. She would consistently sit on my lap, despite me pushing her off. She couldn't be anything but happy or else she'd have one. She used to be one of my best friends. And I was always stuck with her, assigned to watch her alone.

One day, she touched my butt right before class and walked away to her own, and that was the moment I broke. I had a full on panic attack in class and spent the whole hour isolated, crying and shaking. Wanting to scream. Frozen in my place. I kept thinking about ways to run, and thought, "It's happening again." over and over. I was trapped in my mind. I knew where I was, but I just couldn't stop thinking I was back to that time again. I was sent to the counselor's and I told him everything. He didn't help me. Nobody did, despite saying they would. Just like last time.

I don't want to talk to a therapist. They'll congratulate me for "being brave." As if I had a choice. And after a couple weeks they'll be tired of talking about the same things. I don't want pills. Doctors just diagnose me with major depressive disorder, and give antidepressants.

I still have dreams of both experiences, and sometimes jump for no reason thinking I'm being touched again. I have episodes where I'm stuck in my room, thinking about it. I sometimes cry in my sleep. I have panic attacks much more often than I used to, and lately I've been skipping on meals. Last time I ate was 28-29 hours ago. There are days when I try to clean myself, trying to wash away the dirt I feel, and others where I don't take care of myself at all, trying to make myself seem as undesirable as possible.