Why are mine different than yours?

I sat and cried this morning, I am still crying so this may make sense and this may not. I hate BANG memories and this one has lasted and lasted they usually fade or just go AWAY. It hurts! I want it to go away!

My parent's were very much use the the belt at the drop of a hat type parents , my mother was a use any thing at hand type person, it could be a stick, a spatula, a rose bush piece she had just trimmed , ( the thick dead one from the bottom not the little flowers from the top) , anything from water hoses to dog leashes which back then were metal chains. 

My sister hates me, says I was mean growing up, I loved her so very much. I protected her every chance every opportunity, took the blame , when punishments came I pushed her in front of me or pushed her down so she would not be hit, she does not remember anything but the push. When Mother was in a foul mood and we were bickering as children do and I could here her coming down the hall I would hit my sister on the arm or start pulling her toy away so that I would be the one to be yanked up by my hair and slung around, my sister only remembers the the little slap on the arm, she would always run out of the room or run outside while I was punished.

Mother would lock us outside as soon as daddy left to go to work as early as 6:am and not returning home until 6:pm, I stole food and took my little brother and sister on picnics and fed them the stolen food, my sister only remembers the picnics , she does not remember the door was locked, sometimes my grandmother would let us come over to eat at her house for lunch, my sister and brother always happily cozied up to the table, I was too afraid of being caught and would hide outside, all they remember is eating at grannies. She sometimes left food in the fridge on the back porch and once in a while I stole pieces out of it ,but never enough to notice. I never knew until I was an adult she left it for me.

When we were early teens I was a defiant teen yes, but my sister would put herself in situations that were dangerous, getting into vehicles with older guys and I would track her down, one instance I tracked the guy down and actually had a fist fight with him, kicked him in the groin, he did not go down until he beat the living crap out of me, but that was my little sister, the two of them are still very good friends to this day but he never took off with her without telling me first again. She does not remember all of this either. I fought all the way through Junior high, mostly protecting my sister's reputation and protecting my little brother who picked fights he could not even begin to finish. Why can't they remember this part of me , why can't they remember that I was not mean to be mean I was mean to protect them . I LOVED THEM MORE THAN MYSELF! I WANTED TO BE THEM!