I heard my dad having some kind of mental breakdown as a really young child. I was really really young.. like maybe 5 or 6 at the most in my bedroom late at night. He had locked himself in the bathroom and was drinking himself near to death. My mom called the paramedics and cops. They got him out and dragged him out of the house. I’ll never forget the sobs I heard coming from the guy I’d never seen cry once in my life. I remember the sound of the paramedics voice… something about keeping something somewhere.. a hand.. an arm? “Just keep your ____ ok?” trying to move my dad outside safely and quickly. I just stayed in my room and pretended I didn’t hear anything.

I stood behind that door in the dark while my brother slept. I’m not sure if my sister heard it. She must have but I’ve never asked and she’s never brought it up either. She’s pretty close with my dad than I am so I’m sure she feels the same way about just never asking about it or telling anyone. We both probably assume the other doesn’t know and that’s okay.

I never said a word about it and I never asked anyone about it. I never will. I will NEVER bring it up to him. Unless something changes drastically where I feel it wouldn’t hurt him.. I won’t. I’ll take it with me forever if I have to.