Eleos, formerly known as “PEMHS,” is not a mental health facility—it is a correctional facility. Most staff lack the skills to engage with individuals who have mental illness; instead, their default approach is to yell, physically subdue, and forcibly medicate as a first resort. Before leaving, I participated in several “takedowns”—some with serious misgivings—and I am no stranger to the use of restraints. Overall, this institution is riddled with internal issues.
The workplace culture is dominated by a toxic, predominantly young staff—largely young white women—who revel in their inflated authority. They spend much of the day gossiping about patients and each other from behind the desk, avoiding meaningful patient interaction.
All Protected Health Information (PHI) is recorded on paper—in 2023—and these papers are scattered everywhere, reminiscent of the trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange in the 1990s. The screening assessments themselves are intrusive and poorly timed, forcing patients to answer jarring lifestyle questions immediately upon arrival, often during the worst mental and physical moments of their lives.
The administration is comfortably stuck in the past, enjoying secure salaries while operating without a proper electronic health record system. With the exception of updating a few Word documents, there is no digital recordkeeping—an undeniable PHI and HIPAA liability. Mental health technicians (and likely intake staff) earn $16/hour or more, but don’t expect wage growth; instead, the organization focuses on rebranding and expanding, including opening a new children’s unit. This expansion should not be mistaken for genuine improvement in mental health treatment.
HR routinely terminates employees without any attempt at conflict resolution or prior warning. I am writing this in part because I was among those abruptly let go. Often, terminations occur under the guise of an in-person “meeting” with Karen, the Director of Behavioral Health, and Dan, the Human Resources Director at Operation PAR—where employees are blindsided and dismissed before fully understanding the reasoning. Performance evaluations are not based on patient perspectives or outcomes but on keeping a low profile until clock-out time.
As someone who deeply values mental health advocacy and has sought treatment myself, my heart is heavy for the individuals here who will likely be mistreated or displaced to another inadequate facility.
Many of the older clinical staff are wise, compassionate, and genuinely helpful. From the patients themselves, there is an immense amount to learn. Most arrive at intake at the lowest psychological and physical points in their lives. PEMHS, perhaps even more than other acute psychiatric facilities, houses some of the most intelligent and fascinating individuals—largely due to the high proportion of involuntary admissions initiated by law enforcement, often with criminal histories.
These patients bring unique backgrounds, experiences, and insight into aspects of life that many of us will never encounter. If you can establish a therapeutic rapport—sharing a few laughs, sparking a smile, or engaging them in a lively group conversation—you may find yourself not wanting to leave their side. This, for me, was the saving grace.
