Hi! This is Yumechi’s personal website. (つω`*)テヘ

  • UT Austin 2019-2023
  • Computational Biology, Japanese Learner
  • 🏳️‍⚧️ MTF (´;ω;`) Post-op
  • B+ -> Platelet Donor 60 units
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9-Minute Read

Well… As the title suggests I got POED’ed earlier this month… This is the second serious crisis I got myself into that led to a visit to the ER and my first admission…


Retrospectively I could really see how similar this crisis is to last year’s. I get hypomanic and start to hyperfocus on things I suddenly grow interest in and gradually fall behind on my life and wellbeing. At the time being it felt really really good, I lose a lot of sleep and sometimes get so nauseated that I vomit when I wake up. There was once I almost fell asleep on the freeway (I kind of dozed of and could’t remember when I closed my eyes)…

It went on for about 2 weeks and then things started to fall apart: I was missing some classes and dues but I have no motivation nor the ability to concentrate to catch up at all. Honestly it wasn’t that bad, I made some mistakes but it wasn’t unrecoverable. I should have asked for forgiveness and see what my options were. Though my self esteem issues really make it impossible for me to see that I could forgive myself at the point: I start to feel like everybody is disappointed in me, demanding me to “get well or be a loser”. In a sense, hypomania masked me from my reality and what I really need to do and when that mask got pulled away in a day or two’s time things suddenly feel unbearably painful…


As I get into that vicious cycle of unable to forgive -> lose more function -> less self esteem -> unable to forgive. I convinced myself that I deserve nothing and there is nothing I could do or deliver that could make people not disappointed in me.

On the evening of 11th my SI took the best of me. I made an aborted attempt and got really scared of what I was capable of doing. Did some more cutting to calm myself down, Took seroquel and went to sleep. Missed classes on the 12th. Still feeling very impulsive… Talked with a friend not realizing how sick I was that a regular friend really isn’t good enough to help me.

Deep inside I know things are getting out of hand but I felt I don’t deserve help and everything just makes things worse. I sent a message to my psych and as expected he told me to go to the ER. It wasn’t enough for me. Called my father hoping he could help me but it went bad, I was desperate and showed my scars and it didn’t end well..

Trip to the ER

I could not take it anymore… Expecting what was going to happen I called the UT crisis line and pretty much said I was afraid of what I was capable of but I could’t go to the ER on my own.

It went bigger then I expected. It was an EMT that arrived first, made sure I was medically stable and kept talking with me to calm me down. Then an actual ambulance came with two police cars (I knew that after the fact…). I was nervous hearing so many sirens downstairs but well there was really nothing I could change at that point.

They took my information, after EMT made sure I am medically fine they asked me to sign that I denied medical transport. I got frisked in the apartment and then before we went downstairs they told me “we will head downstairs and then we will have something more for you” (chills…) Honestly they were pretty professional and somehow managed to talk me down and made me feel supported in this crazy process… Some tactics I could recognize like ask matter-of-fact questions like “when did you get diagnosed?” and announcing everything they are doing so I feel “in the loop”.

When we got downstairs, in case you didn’t get the innuendo of “something more”, I got frisked again and put in handcuffs on the street while being announced that I was under emergency detention… Then had a ride in the back of the police car, they told me they were trying to get me to a hospital directly but in the end I still got sent to the ER (same one as last year). So the experience is about the same (luckily this time no screaming woman in psychosis next door), except had a short handcuff escort into the room…

I stayed up for around 3-4 hours, got evaluated and then started the admitting process (paper scrubs, blood, urine, COVID). Not sure how long I needed to wait so asked for a seroquel to put me out of the misery of awkwardness and boredom. Asked for time it was 9p. As expected I fell asleep real quick with someone always keeping an eye on me outside…

First Day

I got woken up at around 3 AM. Given my shoes and walked to a hospital security car (just a slightly less intimidating cage in the back).

Intake was in an empty arguably nicely decorated waiting room even better than many outpatient clinics (I don’t know if during BH you could just walk in??). Still in the XL scrubs of course but they were nice to give my phone to me while they processed the documents. I really wasn’t in the mood so I just checked how many notifications I got and then stared into the void for like half an hour…

Then there was another evaluation (I think it was about suicide vulnerability), then a lecture about my rights under emergency detention and the rules on the ward (no violence, prohibited items, etc).

Then I was taken upstairs and walked through “the door”… I was anxious, shivering cold and had to ask for a blanket… Got strip searched where they documented my scars and after all that it was about 5A so I was not sleepy anymore. I didn’t get my clothes and a book I stuffed in until the second day.

Quick Facts:

  • Two beds, two nightstands, an overhead light, a plastic shelf behind door, barred windows. Restroom is anti-ligature design (no rods, hooks, trapezoid-shaped stall doors).
  • You could wear your own clothes (even shoes without shoelaces) I couldn’t bother… It really does not matter whether I wear a scrub or street clothes I get treated the same… In many ways the scrubs are more comfortable to be honest considering how easy it was to soil my clothes in that environment. Also laundry/shower were awkward so I just left my own clothes clean and unworn until discharge. It’s just tha size… They only had XL and XXL ones I literally rolled a whole palm length so I won’t step on my pants.
  • Chaotic in the common areas, sensory deprived in the room…
  • Unbelievably euphoric expressive therapists… I went to like 2 sessions and gave up…
  • I did not get an order to get outside but I heard you could go outside (outside==balcony, not ground floor..) every afternoon. So I technically spent a week without stepping outside the unit… (sounds depressing lol)

The Unit

Honestly I was probably the luckiest of the luckiest (In the US at least) I expected worse… Well I needed it so probably it is more useful to think about the pros rather than the cons.

  • The place is really really clean, it was just that unforgettable hospital smell. Thought I might even get locked in at night, didn’t happen.
  • Didn’t have a roommate, although I had two freaky encounters. The first was someone disassociating in front of me asking me to say something along the lines of “John is not John”, another one was someone walking into my room unannounced. Well they both got sent to PICU afterwards…
  • Had a manic transf next door. A bit chaotic at times but it is so hard to find energy in this world (unit…) where most people are seriously depressed (well technically I was as well)… She was good at chess too, we played chess and jenga.
  • We made some good progress regarding past therapy failures and identifying sources of delusions.
  • I honestly got used to the life pretty quickly… Almost comical that another girl who came after me was almost the same: shivering anxious and then got used to it after a day or two.
  • The smell, paper bags, plastic cups, paper scrubs, key sounds, locked doors, behind bars, safety screws, metal toilet, rubber pens, weighted chairs, nowhere to hang anything. I’m sure it is probably a bit “dehumanizing”… It sounds really wrong but at the time losing my humanity felt like a blessing… I could let myself “die inside” for a few days and I have really no option but to only care about myself…
  • It got unbearably boring after 3-4 days and I felt better. Exercise kept me going. My routine was skipping without rope, 9x+1x double-under 30reps. Literally felt like I was on the top of the world every time! (well sarcasm is to feel that while looking at sun barely shining into the barred windows…)
  • Staff were pretty courteous, after they believed I won’t do something stupid the 15-min checkups were much less invasive. I got 1hr phone time per day from day 4 or day 5 couldn’t remember. Met 3 nurses who were really really nice to me :) .

I didn’t really have visitors or even someone to call… I wonder how people actually need to wait to use the phones on unit.. It was really interesting to observe the brutal reality of human relations: how people convince themselves they do not have a problem, how the helped end up struggling with the relationship with helpers, how parents could not stop appraising their child when it was probably obvious she did not have a easy upbringing…

I stayed for 6.5d. Fell almost surreal when I finally stepped outside, the sun was so bright and all the colors were so vibrant once I got used to the white/blue/gray theme… I could still recall way more detail than I needed to…


It wasn’t THAT bad… I transferred to voluntary within 24 hours so a judge didn’t get involved so legally I wasn’t really “committed”. I needed a break and I got it, albeit in a less-than-optimal way… Most of my instructors are understanding and gave me plenty of time to catch back up. It was a pretty big shock and bumped my feeling up quite a lot and it was just weaning off (well safely so far).

I hope this experience could help me get better at recognizing and disproving my delusions… Although I clearly did not learn the lessons enough from last year…

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