A New Day
A New Day
© 2023
Jasmin Heathcote thought about the previous year. Last year she received her A-level results from the sixth form she attended in Chatham in Kent. She remembered how her hands had been shaking as she opened the brown envelope. Seeing an A and two C’s was a dream come true. She had good grades! She had studied history, economics, and English literature at sixth form for two years. She had worked hard and been happy at school.
She remembered her mother crying with joy as she hugged Jasmin.
“You’re such a bright star,” said her mother as they both looked on the computer, seeing how Jasmin had been accepted into her economics degree at the University of East London.
Economics had been Jasmin’s favourite subject and the one she had received an A in. London wasn’t too far from Kent, so it didn’t feel too frightening to move away. She was independent, yet at the time of receiving her A-level results, she had always lived with her mother in their modest yet homely house, which felt warm and secure.
Jasmin thought about sixth form now and how, at the time, she had no idea what was around the corner in her life. Jasmin remembered the school uniform and how she had always worn her So…? perfume on days she had her A-level classes.
She vividly recalled the face of her best friend. Her long brown hair and beautiful green eyes. How they had been so close, and yet now Edith probably regarded her as a freak. Everyone from that time in her life had distanced themselves from her; she was no longer successful, blond Jasmin, with bright blue eyes and a shining future as an economics student.
No, she was not that girl anymore. A year had passed, and her nineteenth birthday had gone by like a bad dream. When people in Chatham saw her now, they often seemed to giggle and look embarrassed. Jasmin never realised how lucky she had been before 2008. How shiny and safe her life had been.
It all began in the spring of her gap year. She was so excited to go to uni the following year. In the meantime, she was working in Sainsbury’s for six months to save up to visit New York with her friend Edith.
Edith hadn’t decided if she was going to university yet. But even though Jamin’s friend didn’t seem to have as much focus to her future, she seemed happy in Chatham, where she had a handsome and rich boyfriend who she had met online. He bought her designer clothes and jewellery. She often showed off to Jasmin, asking when Jasmin would find someone.
Jasmin would say to Edith, “I’ll meet someone at uni.” She felt as though that was when her life would truly begin.
Yet as autumn became a damp October, the television started talking to Jasmin. A voice that claimed to be her future love was speaking to her, saying she needed to get on TV as she was destined to be famous.
Jasmin started hearing this voice everywhere she went. When she put her iPod on, the voice would sing in between the words of the music. It would tell her, “Jasmin, you’ll be as famous as Elvis if you only follow my direction.”
At first, Jasmin thought it was a ghost. She had been terrified and wondered if it was a supernatural experience. The voice had sounded otherworldly, claiming that Jasmin needed to somehow get on TV.
A few weeks went by with Jasmin hearing the voice. Her manager at Sainsbury’s asked if she was okay when he caught her crying during her lunch break.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “I’m just tired.”
“Other members of staff are concerned about you,” said her manager, whose name was Paul. “Your mum’s worried too.” Jasmin’s mum had worked at Sainsbury’s in Chatham for twenty years. She was a well-loved member of the staff.
Jasmin did her best to keep her cool at work. Yet Paul soon decided she needed some time off, saying she was making too many mistakes and other members of staff were worried about her.
During her time off work, the voice that she was hearing became angrier and more hurried. “You’re not doing as I say. You need to become famous, or you’ll miss out on meeting Trent; your souls are entwined to be together,’ said the voice.
As the weeks melted into November, Jasmin’s mood became restless. She struggled to sleep. She would listen to the voice as she applied for television applications on the ITV website. She did this at night and often found herself laughing frantically to herself.
Yet Jasmin received no luck in her applications to appear on game shows. She had no artistic talents and thus didn’t have a shot at any singing shows or things such as that.
On a harsh November morning when Jasmin had not slept for almost two days, she went downstairs to make a cup of tea, laughing and chattering away to the voice that was speaking to her, arguing with the voice.
Her mum was downstairs with their border collie Sasha, who woofed and wagged her tail.
“Darling, you look awful,” exclaimed her mother. “People at work are worried about you. I’ve said you are under stress. Yet why, dear? You’ve got the grades to go to university next September. You’re a stunning girl, and you’ve got the world in front of your feet.”
“I have to get on TV, or I’ll never meet Trent,” whispered Jasmin.
“Who’s Trent? What’s this about TV? I’m concerned you’re not well. Mentally, I mean. I think we should see the doctor.”
******
Jasmin did her best to seem normal. By the time Christmas came around, it was evident that she was mentally sick. She was hardly sleeping and looked unkempt. She wasn’t washing either, and time seemed to lapse into itself, making weeks feel like days.
By that time, the voice in her head was screaming at her. Jasmin found herself shouting outside her house, unaware it was 4am on the 2nd of December.
The black sky was illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the street lamps. Jasmin’s mum came out with her mobile in her hand. She was crying. The dog barked inside the house.
“Everything’s going to be okay, love,” said her mother.
A few minutes later, policemen arrived and took Jasmin to the Browntree psychiatric hospital.
Jasmin remembered feeling too frantic to know what was going on. Feeling as though this was part of the voice’s master plan and that soon she would be on television.
In the Browntree psychiatric hospital, mental health professionals looked after Jasmin.
As the days seemed to slow down as she was given medication, Jasmin began to talk with the other patients. There were those who were similar ages to Jasmin as well as people a lot older than her, in their thirties or much older.
Three months went by, and the doctors tried two different anti-psychotic medications until she was prescribed Amisolporide and sodium valproate. She was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, a combination of bipolar and schizophrenia.
As the medication took effect while Jasmin stayed in the hospital, she slowly started to become a semblance of the old teenager she had once been. She began to take pride in her hygiene again, enjoying the shower unit in her room in the hospital.
She made a few friends; one was the same age as her mother. The lady’s name was Juliet, and she looked older than Jasmin’s mum even though she was younger. She kept in touch with those people, as she found the kindness they bestowed on her when sick made her feel closer to humanity.
By the time the voice had disappeared, and she was no longer feeling wide awake with ideas and a strange stream of consciousness, she knew she was getting better. She had deferred her place on the economics degree for the following year, knowing she needed a year of rest.
Jasmin thought of all this as she sat back in her bedroom at her mother’s house. She had been discharged from the hospital and was about to start attending a day clinic.
She knew people like Edith were talking about her as Jasmin had posted blogs on her Myspace stating she was to be famous and that the voice of God had told her these things. Edith hadn’t been sympathetic to her illness. The two girls who were once best friends had grown apart.
In Jasmin’s room, where the walls were painted a barbie pink, and her chunky computer sat on a desk, she felt mostly positive about the future. It was the beginning of summer. Jasmin had gained two dress sizes. A lot of people at the hospital said some of the medication made them gain weight too.
She didn’t feel like she looked like a super-model anymore. Just a normal girl. Yet that was OK to her. She hoped she would still find everything she was looking for in life.
*****
The day clinic was in a small building that looked somewhat like a house. It was on the opposite side of the street to the Browntree psychiatric hospital, which looked like a prison from the outside. Yet inside, it was full of humanity, and Jasmin felt it had saved her from madness.
On her first day at the day clinic, her mother walked with her to the address. Her mum was pretty and in her mid-forties; she had curly blond hair and was short, with a slim physique.
“Everyone at Sainsbury’s is so happy you’ve got better,” said her mum. “Paul thinks it’s best you take some more time off before coming back to work. I mean, you don’t have to. Edith’s already gone to New York; you don’t have to save for that holiday anymore. We could go somewhere cheap in a few months. Maybe Blackpool?”
“I don’t think I’m going to go back to work. I was musing about joining the gym before I start uni. I’ve got nearly a whole year, so I could work on getting fit.” Jasmin smiled at her mother. “I think that would be lovely to go to Blackpool. I’ve got a lot saved for my trip that I had planned with Edith, so we could stay in a nice hotel. I’m happy to pay for that.”
“Oh, no fancy hotels. We’ll stay in a modest B&B. You save your money for yourself,” said her mum.
Jasmin signed in at the day hospital, and her mum returned home. Jasmin was introduced to the mental health nurses and other professionals such as occupational therapists.
She was introduced to the main room where, during the day, she would sit with other patients recovering from illness. Four other people were sitting in the room, which had a large flatscreen TV and comfortable chairs.
Jasmin noticed the most gorgeous guy she had seen in a long time. He was dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a Metallica T-shirt. He had long brown hair and dark eyes. He was very slim and had tattoos on his arms and neck.
Jasmin felt self-conscious as she sat opposite him on the comfortable grey armchair. She wore a black tracksuit and was now a size fourteen. She hadn’t been attracted to someone since sixth form and felt more aware of her changed body size than she had in a few weeks.
“Hi,” said the guy with the tattoos.
“Hi,” replied Jasmin.
“I’m Dale.”
As the morning went by, they began to chat. He asked her if she had been in Browntree and she explained that she had, but she didn’t say what illness she had.
Dale told her how he had not been in Browntree but was on medication for acute anxiety. He told her he hadn’t been able to cope at university where he was studying Fine art.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.
“I think… things happen for a reason, I guess. I’m back living with my parents now. I’m going to enrol on an online art degree at the Open College of the Arts once my meds are stable. The doctor thinks I should give myself a year before I start studying again. I really want to get my art degree, but I know they’re right that I should wait.”
Jasmin agreed and explained that she had to defer her place to study economics in London.
“Economics, wow; not only beautiful but smart,” he said with a grin on his face.
Jasmin felt amazed that Dale had described her as beautiful. It felt good to have a handsome guy describe her in that way.
They talked all day. Dale asked her if she had Facebook, and they connected online.
Over the next week, they learnt a lot about each other. They would go into the quiet room and talk with each other or sit in the day clinic’s garden and just chat. She was secretly falling for him but too scared to admit it, feeling frightened of romance. He was also older than her; he was twenty-two years old.
When they had occupational therapy sessions, Jasmin got to see just how amazing Dale was at art. His drawings were so technically brilliant. The occupational therapist asked if she could frame his work, and he seemed very flattered by that.
Dale told her all about his first year living in Wales and how he had hated being so far from his family. He had developed severe anxiety and was on strong medication for the condition.
Dale described to her how he had always been a nervous and shy person. How he never had many friends at college before he moved to Wales.
Jasmin eventually told Dale about her illness of schizoaffective disorder and how her friends thought she was a freak now.
‘They’re not real friends. They didn’t care enough that you were sick at the time,’ Dale said and sighed. ‘I’ve lost friends too because of my condition. I don’t have many friends at all.’
Jasmin felt so comfortable around Dale. Yet she desperately wanted to know if he liked her as more than a friend. She had only ever had one boyfriend in sixth form, yet the connection she was experiencing with Dale felt much purer as it wasn’t based on the fact that Jasmin was one of the prettiest girls at school.
After two months of spending the days at the clinic with Dale and spending weekends going to the cinema with him, she met his dad, who was an art teacher, and realised that was where he must have got his passion for art from. He was finally discharged from the clinic.
Jasmin was still attending, and the doctors expressed how they were pleased with her progress. She would be able to start her economics degree in September of 2010 as she planned.
Jasmin was afraid that she might not see much of Dale when she moved into the halls of residence at the University of East London. She imagined she would meet other guys who sparked attraction in her, yet would they be so gentle-spirited and lovely to talk to as Dale was?
Two days passed after Dale stopped attending, and then she received an email from him telling her how he was doing a foundation course from the Open College of Arts. It was a pre-degree course, but it wasn’t pressured. He was planning to start his art degree with them the following year.
The email also confessed that Dale really liked Jasmin as more than a friend. How he didn’t want to tell her in the clinic as he didn’t feel it was appropriate. He said how he understood if she wanted to just be friends but hoped she would go out with him as a boyfriend.
Butterflies danced in her stomach, and she felt so happy as she read the email. Dale wanted to date her! Dale, who was so intelligent and creative. Kind and understanding Dale, who knew she had schizoaffective disorder and still described her as beautiful, smart, and amazing!
The next few months before university were magical. Jasmin found the love of her life in Dale. He was decent and didn’t pressure her to move too fast. They would go to the cinema or spend time at his parents’ house watching movies on DVD. She was so happy with him.
It wasn’t until the second month of their relationship that it became adult. It never felt dirty or forced like it had with her boyfriend Elijah, who she dated when she had been at sixth form. She believed Dale when he said he loved her.
The couple decided to rent a double room in Beckton in east London instead of her going to halls for university. It was one stop on the DLR train from the university. It was so lovely living with her boyfriend.
They were both doing their degrees. She was in the first year of her economics degree and loving the collective intelligence that buzzed through every inch of the University of East London. He was now studying the BA Fine Art programme at the Open College of Arts.
Their rent was £600 per month for the double room in the shared four-bedroom house. The property was homely, and the other renters were polite and nice to share small talk with.
By the time the first year of Jasmin’s BA in economics had finished, she was on track to get a first. So was Dale in his fine art degree. He was doing it over six years instead of three. He had started working at a quiet pub in Beckton. His anxiety was under control. He only worked the day shifts on the weekend, but he was happy and independent.
The couple were engaged to be married. They were planning on getting married the next summer. They had dreams of one day having a family and buying a house. They wanted to move up north where property was cheap.
Jasmin had never expected that she would find the love of her life so young. She loved how he made her feel excited about simple things like going to a restaurant or watching a DVD together.
Jasmin and Dale got married while she was in her second year of her economics degree. Their wedding was at a local registry office in Kent. Both their parents attended, and a few friends. Some of their friends from East London came down for the day.
Jasmin was now a dress size twelve and looked beautiful in the white dress she had purchased from a rockabilly fashion shop. It was an inexpensive wedding, yet it was truly magical.
When Jasmin and Dale were married, she felt so content and happy. She imagined the rest of her life with this beautiful kind soul. He loved her for who she was. He supported her with her health condition, and she did the same with his anxiety.
They were saving up for a deposit to one day buy a cheap house in Yorkshire. They had dreams of getting a dog and having a baby. They had a whole life planned out with each other, one that would be full of joy and peace.
The end.
