Where have my memories gone?

Trying so hard to think back, back to when I was a child. I can recall a few things (mostly bad). I try to remember the day I was placed in foster care as a little girl at around 4 years old. Nothing there... I can remember the day I was adopted (bits and pieces) at age seven. It was my brother and myself. I remember them pulling into the driveway with a big white Lincoln Town Car. I remember the feeling of wanting to run, but looking up at my big brother and seeing the smile on his face and just grabbing his hand and thinking "It's OK at least we will be together". I looked up to him, he was all I knew as family. I remember seeing "HER" get out of the car and wanting to cry, but held it in. I can't remember anything else until the court date to finalize the adoption and when the judge asked my brother and I if we wanted to be adopted, my brother answered yes, I wanted to scream no and run out of the courtroom. I stood there and said yes choking back the tears. All that I can remember for the next several years are the things "SHE" did to me. I remember being told I was fat and ugly and would never amount to anything, that it was a package deal and how badly they wanted my brother and I had to come along. I remember them taking him out to eat and to movies and I was left at home (in a huge house) so scared and hiding under the table in my room. I remember before they would leave "HER" telling me Jaws was going to come out of the bath drain while I was bathing or that if I took a shower (it had a magnetized door) that it was going to fill up with blood and the door would get stuck shut. She would then wait till they were ready to go and in front of my dad and brother say "Don't forget your bath, Ill be checking to make sure you're clean when we get home". I was about eight at this time and would call the teenager across the street and have her sit on the commode while I took a bath and would have to hurry because I wasn't allowed to have anyone in the house. I still remember that girls name. When she would leave I would go straight back under the table in my room. My room was really big, it was red, white and blue. It was filled with antiques. The bed was a massive antique bed with lot of carving. The table I hid under was a round table that sat in the corner of my room, it had a tablecloth on it that hung down to the floor. When "SHE" came home she would head straight for the television and feel the back of it to make sure that it was not warm since I was not allowed to have it on. "SHE" would then make me get out of bed and smell me and check my nails. If my hair smelt to much like shampoo then I would have to take another bath because she said I wasn't suppose to smell like soap or shampoo. I only remember one Christmas. I remember seeing all of my brothers things and thinking "WOW cool stuff and then looking at my stuff and acting very grateful, but going to my room afterwards and crying. I remember crying and hearing my dad say "Why didn't she get the kind of stuff he did?" I remember how upset he sounded. I did get some pretty clothes and a fox fur from my dad. (I hated the fur it made me sad poor animal) It was my favorite thing I got for Christmas though because my dad got it for me. When it came time to take things to my room though all of my clothes and the fur where gone. I asked "HER" where they were and she said "In my closet of course". I never got to wear any of them. I remember going in my moms closet and just touching the fur.
Every day before school I would have to make every ones bed. I wasn't allowed to have lunch money because "SHE" said I was fat enough already. I hated coming home from school. As soon as I walked in I would have to clean. Clean the kitchen, clean the bathrooms, vacuum, dust and clean all the wood floors. If the beds were not made up good enough I would know it because all the sheets and blankets would be laying on the floor when I got home from school. I would have to cook supper and have the table set. "SHE" would call when everyone was headed home and I would know to time dinner perfectly for when they got home. I remember my dad bought me a pair of high tops because I wanted to play basketball and "SHE" took them back. He wasn't so bad, he was lost I think and didn't know what to do. It just kept getting worse. "SHE" would tell me to do things and when I did she would tell him "SHE" didn't know anything about it and I would get in trouble. "SHE" lied on me to many times to tell you about. I only remember one birthday party and that was right after I was adopted and it was all of her rich friends and their kids. I remember shortly after that "SHE" had a nervous breakdown and stayed in her room. I remember my brother going in to cheer her up and them wrestling around and how the mattress ended up on the floor. I went running in young and excited and just wanted to play. "SHE" started screaming and before I knew it I was under the mattress with her on top of it laughing. I was screaming that I couldn't breath and my brother standing there saying "Let her up, I don't think she can breath" and her just laughing saying "Oh shes OK". My brother finally got her off of me and I ran to my room. Later my dad came up to yell at me and told me that we was suppose to leave her alone because she was "sick". "SHE had told him I just came in to bother her". I tried to tell my dad what happened, but he always believed her over me. I stopped telling him anything. I remember her taking me to have my hair permed and thinking "Wow shes being so nice" until we got home and she made me pull weeds in 90 degree weather until I had blisters on my head. My dad asked her why she would do that and she just told him she didn't realize it would do that. I lost my brother. He was no longer there for me. He would tell me to just suck it up and deal till I was eighteen or they died (because of the money). He had it made. My mom would buy him anything he wanted. He always had a new car. He started being mean to me too. He would shoot me with BB guns, run over me with his go carts, and anything and everything that went wrong in the house my brother and mom would blame me. I was alone and wanted to die. I had no one. At fifteen my mom and brother got into a fight about some girl he was dating (my mom was always jealous of his girlfriends). My brother pushed her down the steps and took off in his truck and I went down to see if she was OK. Her leg was cut open and she started yelling for me to get out and not come back. I started walking and it took me about two hours to make it to the store and I called one of my brothers friends to pick me up. He did and we parked by the lake and talked for hours. He talked me into going back so I did only to find out she told my dad I did it and before I knew it I was on the floor getting kicked by both of them. I was sent to a psychiatric hospital for six months. They would have to come for family therapy and when I would talk I would be called a liar by both of them so I shut down. They were allowed to walk me to my room and my mom would send my dad to do something and would tell me that she hated me and never wanted me and that I would never come back home if she had anything to do with it. I had enough and started screaming "I HATE YOU YOU BITCH WHY DID YOU ADOPT ME" about that time my dad walked in and she started her fake crying, they left and when there insurance ran out I was put back in foster care. I asked for clothes, pictures, and my favorite doll from before adoption. I was told no. I stayed in foster care until I was seventeen and was on my own with no one from there. I remember maybe twenty days of my life before eighteen and when I started found my real mom I contacted my brother and he told me not to do that because I didn't know all of the things that happened to me before foster care as a child. He wouldn't tell me either. I want to know, but he is no where to be found and when I did hear from him a long time ago he was on drugs really bad. So "HER" perfect little boy wasn't so perfect. I am now having short term memory loss and I don't know why.