Moving to Trent

By this time, Tabby had had enough of my crazy shit. Who can blame her? She would have to take Liza to my mother's house which was an hour away, and then drive back home to get ready to go to work, which was another twenty minutes away. I wasn't in the most reliable state as it were. I guess she figured at least all she would have to do was take Liza to mom's while I stayed home and moped and she could go to work. So we moved into 827 N. Mulberry Street in Trent. It was the house my mom and the kids had lived in when I first had the PKD connection. We were now living in the run down, shabby, barely held together house, if you could call it a house. Floors were sunk in everywhere, cracks scattered the sick white paint.

Moping is probably not the best term one could use to describe what I was feeling. I had an immense depression, so severe that I began to lose weight again. I couldn't focus on anything. I felt dead, everything around me felt dead. It was Almost like it was on 12-14-90. Nothing could match that. But this time, it was fairly intense. I felt as if hands were draped around my neck squeezing the life out of me, choking off the oxygen supply to my weary brain. I had gone go the nurse practitioner I had been seeing for my back spasms to prescribe some anti depressant. I knew if I did not act quickly, I may not be alive much longer. It was that bad. I had started thinking about everything that had happened and especially the occurrences with PKD and I had tried my damndest to figure out what was going on. I spun forth theory after theory, just like Phil would do himself if he had been presented this enigma. One theory that I had thought of that of course was very depressing was that I was Phil Dick and this was the afterlife. I am being made to go through life as if it were one of my very own novels, sanity be damned. Whether it was some supernatural entity or some well meaning dream architects. Who knows. All I could think was like David Ames of "Vanilla Sky", "Tech Support! Tech Support! I want out of here! Help me!". Such a lonely disparate place my mind was residing in.