The silence in the doctor's office stretched unbearably as Jasmine stared at the floor, her body tense, jaw locked. Cameron watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction as the doctor continued speaking.
"Borderline personality disorder, or BPD, is a mental health condition that affects how a person thinks and feels about themselves and others. It can lead to self-image issues, difficulty managing emotions and behavior, and unstable relationships," the doctor explained, their voice measured and calm. "Some common symptoms include intense fear of abandonment, rapid changes in self-identity, impulsive behaviors, extreme emotional swings, and patterns of unstable relationships."
Jasmine let out a sharp breath through her nose but said nothing. Cameron instinctively reached for her hand, but Jasmine flinched away.
The doctor hesitated before continuing. "I understand that this may be overwhelming to hear, but the good news is that BPD is treatable. There are several therapy options, such as dialectical behavior therapy, which is specifically designed to help people with BPD regulate their emotions, improve relationships, and develop healthy coping mechanisms."
Jasmine's fingers dug into her thighs. "So what? You want me to go to therapy and pop pills like some fucking lunatic?" Her voice was cold, but Cameron could hear the slight tremor beneath it.
"Medication isn't always necessary," the doctor assured her. "It depends on the individual and their specific struggles. The important thing is that you don't have to go through this alone."
Jasmine shot up from her chair so suddenly that it startled both Cameron and the doctor. "I'm done here."
"Jas—" Cameron began, but Jasmine was already out the door. Cameron muttered a quick, "Thank you," to the doctor before chasing after her.
By the time she reached the parking lot, Jasmine was already in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly over her chest, gaze fixed out the window. Cameron climbed into the driver's seat, closing the door gently, as if any sudden movement would make Jasmine shatter.
"Jas, talk to me."
Jasmine let out a bitter laugh. "Talk to you? About what? How some doctor just decided I'm fucking crazy? How I'm apparently some textbook case of a disorder that only unstable, psychotic people have?" She turned to face Cameron now, her eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous. "That's not me, Cameron. I'm not crazy."
"No one said you were," Cameron said carefully. "This isn't about labels. It's about understanding yourself better. Getting help doesn't mean you're—"
"Don't." Jasmine's voice dropped to a near-growl. "Don't sit there and act like this is some revelation that's going to fix everything. You think slapping a label on me is going to magically make things better? That I'm suddenly going to be a whole new person just because some doctor thinks I fit into a neat little category?"
Cameron clenched the steering wheel. "That's not what I—"
"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" Jasmine cut her off, voice dripping with venom. "You've been waiting for some professional to confirm that I'm fucked up so you can feel validated for putting up with me. So you can be the fucking martyr in this relationship. Poor Cameron, dating the unstable girl. Poor Cameron, always having to clean up Jasmine's messes."
Cameron's chest tightened. "That's not fair."
Jasmine scoffed. "Neither is you trying to fix me like I'm some goddamn project."
The words stung—more than Cameron wanted to admit. She had spent so much time worrying about Jasmine, trying to hold her together, trying to be enough to make things easier. And now, it felt like all of it was being thrown back in her face.
"I'm not trying to fix you, Jasmine," Cameron said, her voice quieter now, but firm. "I just— I just want to help."
Jasmine shook her head and looked away. "I don't need your help."
Something inside Cameron snapped. The exhaustion, the months of walking on eggshells, the constant feeling of fighting a battle alone—it all came crashing down at once.
"Then what the hell do you need?" Cameron's voice was sharp now, frustration bubbling over. "Because I have done everything, Jas. I've been patient, I've been understanding, I've given you space, I've given you support. And every single time, you push me away. I'm tired, Jasmine. I'm so fucking tired."
Jasmine said nothing, just stared ahead, her lips pressed into a tight line.
Cameron exhaled harshly, running a hand through her hair. "You don't want my help? Fine. But don't stand there and make me out to be the bad guy for caring about you."
The car was suffocating in its silence. Jasmine didn't move, didn't even blink. For the first time in a long time, Cameron didn't know what to do next.
And for the first time in a long time, she didn't think she wanted to.