The towel

I am at the pool writing this. I need to get all of this crap out of my head. I tossed and turned all night. I was sad. Then mad, and then sad again. Hence, the sleeplessness. Yesterday was not a good day at work. I'm frustrated with the system I work within and its participants.

By the participants, I don't mean the clients I have as a deputy public defender. I mean the system itself and those who serve within it.

I'm keeping it vague because I have to. I'm not here to call anyone out. I am here to say this system is broke and it needs fixing. This adversarial carceral system is messed up. It reminds me daily that I don't use the word justice system for a reason. 

All of this is just sitting in my head. My thoughts twirled all night. Why do things work like this? Do they have to? There has to be a way to change all of this. Isn't there? 

Perhaps, just perhaps, I have been doing this work far too long. I'm sour. My face is puckered daily by frustration. I want to do more to make a difference and can't. I am stymied. Stagnant. 

I remind myself, it is not about me. I've always known this. I work within a machine and my clients suffer within it. But then I think, right before I dive into the pool, when do you throw in the towel?