My Best Friend Of 15 Years Thinks My Boyfriend Is Her Soulmate. She Crashed His Family Dinner And Refused To Leave. Am I Losing My Best Friend Or My Mind?

Diagnosis and Treatment

My stomach dropped when I saw her name on my phone because I didn’t know if this meant more problems or what. Her voice sounded tired when she told me that Jasmine had been officially diagnosed with erotomania by the psychiatrist they’d taken her to see.

She explained that Jasmine was starting treatment with medication and therapy but still didn’t believe she was sick. Jasmine kept insisting that everyone was conspiring against her and that the diagnosis was just another way for me and Alex to turn people against their relationship.

Her mom said at least Jasmine was in the mental health system now where professionals could monitor her and hopefully the medication would start working soon. I thanked her for calling and updating us even though it must have been hard for her to admit her daughter needed that level of help.

The next week I made an appointment with a therapist because I couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’d explained away Jasmine’s weird behavior. I kept replaying moments from the past few months wondering if I should have seen this coming or done something differently.

The therapist’s office was in a building downtown and I sat in the waiting room picking at my cuticles until she called me back. I told her everything from the beginning and when I got to the part about Jasmine showing up at Sunday dinner I started crying.

I still couldn’t believe my best friend since middle school had turned into someone I didn’t recognize. The therapist explained that delusional disorders can emerge in early adulthood and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it.

She said Jasmine’s brain was creating a false reality that felt completely real to her and no amount of friendship or intervention from me would have stopped that process. It helped to hear that but it didn’t completely erase the what-ifs that kept running through my head at 3:00 in the morning.

That weekend Alex and I had a long conversation on my couch about how this whole experience had changed us. He said he’d learned to trust his discomfort instead of being polite when something felt wrong.

He admitted that Jasmine had made him uncomfortable pretty early on but he’d ignored it because he didn’t want to cause problems in my friendship and now he realized that instinct was trying to warn him. I told him I needed to work on not explaining away concerning behavior just because I loved someone.

I’d spent so much energy convincing myself that Jasmine’s actions were just her being dramatic or going through something instead of accepting that her behavior was genuinely dangerous. We both agreed that we’d rather hurt someone’s feelings by setting boundaries than end up in another situation like this one.

Returning to Normalcy

A month after the restraining order, we decided to cautiously start reclaiming our normal life. Alex went back to his regular gym but only during off-peak hours when it was less crowded and he could keep an eye on who was coming in.

I started meeting friends at our usual coffee shop instead of avoiding places Jasmine might know about. It felt weird at first because I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see her standing there watching us but slowly the knot in my chest started to loosen and I could actually enjoy my coffee without scanning the room every 30 seconds.

Quentyn invited us to a work happy hour at a bar near Alex’s office and Alex actually said yes which surprised me. He’d been avoiding social events with co-workers for months because he was embarrassed about the whole situation.

We showed up and his co-workers were supportive without being weird about it. Nobody asked intrusive questions or treated Alex like he was fragile; they just included him in conversations about normal work stuff and made jokes and acted like everything was fine.

I watched Alex’s shoulders relax as the night went on and he laughed at something Quentyn said. It was the first time in months that I’d seen him look genuinely comfortable around other people.

The next week I was at the grocery store picking up milk when I saw Jasmine’s aunt in the produce section. She’d been at family barbecues and birthday parties throughout my entire friendship with Jasmine; I’d known her since I was 12 years old.

She saw me at the same time I saw her and immediately looked down at the apples she was examining. She grabbed a bag and walked quickly toward the other side of the store without making eye contact.

It stung worse than I expected because I realized this situation had cost me more than just Jasmine. It had fractured connections with people who were part of my childhood and who probably heard some twisted version of events that made me look like the villain.

6 weeks after the hearing, Lincoln called while I was at work. I stepped outside to take the call and he told me that Jasmine had violated the restraining order by sending a letter to Alex’s parents’ house.

The letter rambled about true love conquering all obstacles and how their connection was too strong for legal documents to destroy. Lincoln said we needed to report it immediately so there was documentation of the violation.

He explained that even though it was just a letter and not a physical confrontation, any contact was a violation and needed to be taken seriously. I called Alex right away and he sounded exhausted when he answered.

He said he’d hoped the restraining order would be enough to make Jasmine stop but apparently her delusion was stronger than legal consequences. The police visited Jasmine that afternoon with a warning about the violation.

Her parents called us a few hours later apologizing over and over. Her dad’s voice sounded completely worn out when he said they were increasing Jasmine’s psychiatric supervision and making sure she understood that any more contact would result in criminal charges.

I could hear how exhausted they both sounded dealing with a daughter who refused to accept reality no matter how many doctors or lawyers or judges told her she was wrong. Alex and I sat at my kitchen table the next morning with coffee neither of us was drinking.

Lincoln had emailed us copies of the violation report and we stared at the documents like they might suddenly change what happened. I asked if we should press criminal charges and Alex rubbed his eyes with both hands before saying he didn’t know anymore.

We’d been dealing with this for months and every consequence just seemed to make Jasmine dig deeper into her delusion instead of pulling her out. I reminded him that her parents said she was in treatment now and maybe the warning would be enough.

Alex nodded slowly and said he wanted to believe treatment would work but he was tired of hoping things would get better only to have Jasmine show up somewhere new. We called Lincoln and told him we wanted the formal warning documented but wouldn’t pursue charges this time.

Lincoln said that was reasonable given the circumstances but warned us to report any future contact immediately because patterns of violation usually got worse instead of better. He told us the warning would make it clear that next time meant arrest with no exceptions and Jasmine’s parents had been informed of the consequences.

After we hung up Alex said he felt like we were being too soft but also didn’t want to be the reason someone went to jail when they were sick. I understood exactly what he meant because I kept going back and forth between anger at what Jasmine put us through and sadness that my best friend’s brain had broken in a way that destroyed everything.