So, I got divorced. Now what?

I feel somehow compelled to post this here. This is mostly because coughI have no mature friends/cough I respect and admire the Doper community, and tend to have need of its advice. Also, I think I’ve posted every other relationship milestone on here, though, to be fair, I was in college at the time.

A search of my threads kind of tells the whole story (well, except for the thread about losing my virginity; thank Og for The Winter of Our Missed Content), but that’s long, and no one wants to do that. Plus, you know, the timer thing’s a bitch and a half.

So. Nutshell. Met a guy in 2002 at 19, was engaged a few months later. Discovered shortly thereafter that he was way messy, and that this annoyed me. Was told by various Dopers that this was Not A Good Sign. Ignored this, as I was an idiot-ass 20 year-old. Got my BA in the end of 2003 (had to graduate early due to a funding crisis), moved in with him. Got married in 2004. Age 21. He was 27.

Things never really seemed to progress from the point where I moved in. Out of school, I lucked into a well-paying customer service job, and have been there ever since. There was talk of me going back to school for my MLS. Money and time never quite worked, though, and it seemed the priority was going to be his education, as he never got his BA/BS. He went back to school for two months, quit because he wasn’t doing the work.

We got a house. He pursued one job opportunity, hated it, went back to his old job. Meanwhile, I was more-or-less stuck where I was, as I was by far the main breadwinner. There was pushing for involvement in the poly scene; as this was not part of our original arrangement, I’m not comfortable with it. He doesn’t do anything, but periodically pushes. He decides in early 2006 that he has gender issues. He wants to cross-dress. Okay, fine.

The cross-dressing quickly evolves into an alternate persona that is in many ways radically different from the person I married; the issues evolve into full blown gender dysphoria. I find myself getting quickly more and more depressed. Attempts to discuss the issues are brushed off as me being selfish, or are cast aside with the “it’s a part of me, deal or sigh I can stop and deny that part of me if it bothers you that much” kind of thing. I figure the problem has to be me.

I go to therapy. The therapist my husband hates says I have issues with my husband, but refers me to a psychiatrist anyway. The psychiatrist diagnoses me with depression and puts me on Effexor. Which made me really happy for about a month. WAY too happy, way too hyper, way too irritable. . .

. . .diagnosed as bipolar II. I get put on mood stabilizers and antipsychotics in addition to the antidepressant. The effects of this eventually get so bad that I end up taking a leave from work (note–I know I wasn’t pleasant to be with during this–combine the massive amounts of chemicals in my system. . .hell, I half-became convinced I had my own gender issues. Among other things). Meanwhile, in early 2007 my husband decides to start hormone therapy. Note–HE decided. He has not visited a therapist, or a doctor. He has not obtained a prescription, gone over dosages, or anything like that. He has, instead, elected to order pills online from a pharmacy in Vanatau.

Incidentally, he asked me about this beforehand. “Should I do this?” I answered emphatically that no, I didn’t think he should, though I acknowledged that he was an adult and didn’t need my permission to do anything. So. . .he orders the pills. Takes them for a month. Quits or forgets to get more. Goes through raging PMS (which I’m less than sympathetic about, I admit; I mean, I get it sometimes, but it’s not like I’m causing it).

I finally get to the point where enough’s enough with my medication (and where I’ve begun to suspect the underlying conditions are not necessarily biochemical), so I stop, cold, and go back to work. Shortly thereafter, we’re bickering, and I say, flatly, “this isn’t working out.”

He cried a lot. I didn’t so much, though I did a little. Six months later, and, POOF, I’m divorced.

I now have no idea what to do with my life. My ex-husband and I are selling the house. This will pay off my car and my credit cards. I’ve been able to move back with my mom for the forseeable future. For the first time in over four years, I feel like I have possibilities, and not just a stream of stuff.

. . .except the next step is unknown.

I want to write; crappy-ass message board posts aside, I write good fiction. I’ve been writing a LOT since I’ve moved out. Consistently and with decent quality, a bunch of stories on a particular character. And I have one idea that I’m working on that might end up longer-than-a-short-story sized.

I’d love to finish it. I know that if I do, I can do something with it. What I want to do–more than anything else–is write.

It’s just that I have this nagging voice in me telling me to go back to school. And I have no idea how I’d do that. I was only IN college for five semesters. I didn’t have a chance to really establish a rapport with any of my professors. And I don’t think my current co-workers would really be qualified to write LORs for, say, an MLS or MFA program. I have people who would be–personal contacts, people I’ve written with–but I don’t know if they count.

And, of course, I don’t exactly want the degree. I want to write. If I could have a part-time job while doing that, that’d be ideal. If I could figure out how to do it and get paid even better, but I know that’s damned unlikely.

So. . .all this potential (I’m 24 now), and no idea what the hell to do with it.

Suggestions? Comments?

Take a step back for a second, take a deep breath, and realize that you’ve worked your ass off, and not just at school and not just at the office but on your life, and that hard work has paid off with a wonderful clean slate that you can begin to write the next chaper of your life on. Don’t be intimidated by the space you have, use it go get an awesome running start on your dreams. Pick any direction you like and start throwing kicks in that direction and eventually your foot will connect with an ass, and the next thing you know you’ll be kicking ass all over the place.

I don’t think I can offer advice any better than that. It’s perfect.

I will say that this is a perfect opportunity to completely reinvent yourself should you choose to do so.

With the caveat I’m not a professional writer: Unless you really do want the degree for its own sake, if I were you I would not be worried about getting a MFA degree. An MFA degree isn’t going to make your writing something that people want to read if you don’t already have a compelling story to tell. So, personally, I’d just focus on writing and learning about how to market your writing to publishers, and then see what happens with that.

I mean, holy crap, you could write a memoir just about the weird stuff your husband put you through and I think people would buy it. :wink:
(seriously, I feel for you - that is a messed up situation, and I think anyone would have a hard time staying mentally healthy in that kind of environment).

When I was in music school, one teacher said something really relevant to this situation: You have to learn how to play. Audiences won’t be impressed by your diploma.

Not like your ex did, though… :eek:

:wink:

Congrats on your freedom. I remember some of the whole messy thing. And you remind me of myself, who shouldn’t have married the guy I was with who decided he was a fairy in his past life who’d promised all eternity to someone else and now had to leave me.

I can tell you what I did. Dated another loser, kept my same job. Dumped the loser after too long, started dating my husband, switched jobs - got a career, married my husband, had two children, lived about as happily ever after so far as people get.

Enjoy being yourself. I wouldn’t worry too much about reinventing yourself and I would about finding your true self. But yeah, if that means not being who you used to be, take time to do that. Know yourself well enough to know that some compromises aren’t compromises - they are dealbreakers.

Congratulations. You are young, unattached, soon to be debt-free and free to do anything you want with your life. If I am reading your post correctly, you will have no real responsibilities to anyone but yourself. Enjoy the moment, it doesn’t last and you may never have the opportunity again. In a sense, you are perfectly free.

You could join the Peace Corps and see another part of the world. If nothing else, it would give you something else to write about. You would get to travel and it would certainly broaden your horizons. A few dopers have done this and seemed happy with the result.

Wow. What a story. Congratulations on coming to a new and better point!

Speaking of writing, I can do no more than recommend The Writer’s Journey by Christopher Vogler and Story by Robert McKee. Both are oriented toward screenwriters, but they deal with the craft of story design–character arcs, sequence of events, and all that–rather than the craft of bending the language to your needs, or of formatting your output. I was writing a comic and ran into difficulties and found these books and eventually started to completely redesign the whole thing. I have no idea whether an MFA in writing deals with these things; I certainly hope so!

Just wanted to pop in and say - I am so excited for you! Congratulations.

If you’ve got your heart set on a MLS or MFA, start researching and working toward it. However, as a professional writer, I can tell you that the quality of your work and the relationships you have with people in your field are usually more important than your degrees (though a MFA certainly doesn’t hurt). That said, an MFA can help you streamline your writing and learn new techniques. It can also be a way for you to meet other writers. It just depends on whether you feel you need formal training or not. Perhaps you could comp a class or two to decide what you’d like to do.

Regardless, enjoy what you have now like it’s going out of style. You’ve certainly earned it.

I know you may not want to rehash what has just happened to you (well, aside from your post), but I have a feeling memoirs about women married to (or who were married to) guys with gender dysmorphia are quite hot right now in publishing…

ETA Your post reads like someone coming up for air. Congratulations and good luck.

Congratulations on the exit. Well done.

Angel, a good friend of mine is a military and science fiction writer with over 70 books to his credit. He doesn’t have a college degree, just a comfortable living doing what he enjoys. You’ve got the skill and you can refine it. I agree with what others have said – your ex-husband’s given you plenty of material.

It’s a scary thing, isn’t it, having the world at your feet and all possibilities open? Here’s some advice from someone 20 years further down the road: you can always reinvent yourself if you want to badly enough. You’re sensible and you’ve learned from past experience. Do what you have to to keep a roof over your head and food on your table, but find people who’ll support your dreams and encourage you in them. There are a bunch around this message board. If you want a proofreader or a person to bounce ideas off of, I’m happy to volunteer.

Good luck and congratulations on your new life. Also, check your PMs.

Wise words. I’m doing this now. Plan A was shelved in favour of Plan B, which didn’t work, but now I’m in the midst of Plan C, and thinking that Plan D may be a better way. Plan D is, oddly, a lot like Plan A.

Sometimes you have to take several runs at it.

Go you! Considered taking something at Uni that involves creative writing? It may not lead to a degree, but you’ll have the opportunity to immerse yourself in the craft together with like-minded people. That’s what I did when I was in a situation roughly similar to yours (but with much less drama) to years ago. Moved to another city, went to arts college, started over - on my own terms.

It really sounds like you need to do something that’s just for you. I’d worry about what’s right and proper later. Let the ass-kicking commence!

For the time being, do nothing.

Relax. Work. Find out who you are. Not who you and nutjob ex are. Not who you with nutjob ex are. Who you with you are.

Then look around with your new found vision and see what looks interesting. A degree? Jump on it. Writing? Dive in headfirst. Truck driving? See some country for a while.

Right now you’re going to be overwhelmed with possibilities and options. Let things settle out a bit. I’d say at least a year before making any serious changes.

I found myself in a similar situation when I was 24. (no gender dysmorphic ex-husband, but a doozy of an ex-partner).

What I discovered was that I could do ANYTHING. And also, it was important that I do something.

I know this may sound like a real downer post, but I mean it with all good wishes for your future: one of your first priorities should be to find a job or other means of support so that you can move into your own place. Your mother does not need more drama of watching you reinvent yourself or whatever else you go through to move to the next phase of your life; trust me, she’d prefer to hear it over the phone rather than watch it go on under her roof.

It sounds like you’re headed in the right direction. I’m glad for you.

I just want to say that one or maybe two college courses (as suggested above) in writing might not be a bad idea. Go for a bit under your skill level, and use it to refine certain skills. That’s what I did when I wanted to write so badly, but had myself and my now-soon-to-be-ex-husband to support. I was way above the expected writing level for one course and right on track for the other, and it was really lovely to work within that context. It was very small classes, though. Three in the one I was right on track for and about ten in the one I was way above. Still, taking two classes focused on creative writing was a very good thing for me. If I can afford it in the future, I will most certainly be doing it again.

Good luck to you. I’m glad things are starting to iron themselves out for you.

1.- She does have a job.

2.- I don’t think you know her mother, so how can you know what she wants? Mine would rather have me in her house than anywhere else, being a Mediterranean mother hen - no matter what I’m going through. Getting her own place ASAP may or may not be the best option for Angel, as perhaps her next “own place” should be in a completely different location.

3.- Hi, Angel!