Research paper

Earlier this week, I finished my fifth class for my master's degree. While I received an A in the class, my final assignment was left out. Apparently, my professor got confused on when final grades were due and didn't have time to grade the final (which was originally worth 20% of the grade), so she dropped it from her scoring rubric.

Cool.

Well, since I took the time to write a 2200+ word research paper and now it has no audience, I've decided to share it here. Don't feel obligated to read it, but if you, I'd love to know what you think.

Hate Speech vs. Censorship: The Power of Language on Social Media and the Dangers of Both Hate Speech and Censorship

Free speech is often held as the most vital liberty protected by the Bill of Rights. Yet, is it possible to maintain the freedom of speech while still limiting it? Specifically, how can free speech be protected while still preventing hate speech, especially on social media? The crux of this dilemma is that taking action to curb hate speech is a form of censorship, which inherently hinders free speech. However, with the rise of social media platforms being used as a new outlet for individuals and groups to use hateful language—and new hate groups forming and made possible via social media platforms—there is growing concern about the dangers of allowing hate speech to exist unrestrained. Ultimately, the question becomes: is controlling hate speech on social media worth the price of censorship? This paper will explore this issue by defining hate speech, providing a brief history of hate speech in the US, establishing the existence of hate speech online and on social media, defining free speech as it exists in the US, supplying evidence of the power of hate speech, and establishing the view of censorship by the US Supreme Court. The goal of this paper is to weigh the dangers of hate speech against the dangers of censorship, offer an opinion about which is more perilous, and provide potential options of how to best address these concerns.

Identifying the Issue

There is no official, legal term for what constitutes hate speech in the US; however, according to the UN, "the term hate speech is understood as any kind of communication in speech, writing or behaviour [sic], that attacks or uses pejorative or discriminatory language with reference to a person or a group on the basis of who they are, in other words, based on their religion, ethnicity, nationality, race, colour [sic], descent, gender or other identity factor." To put it another way, hate speech is biased and insidious language used to attack a person or groups of person based on one or more thing that make up that person’s identity. In this way, hate speech is different from disagreeing with a person's opinion, viewpoint, or ideology. Hate speech is used not to attack philosophies, but people themselves.

History of hate speech in the US

No history of hate speech in the US would be complete nor honest without first discussing the nation’s history of race-based slavery. The American colonies and later the fledgling US were established with race-based slavery. While slavery and indentured servitude had been used around the world for centuries, the version of slavery in America was different in that it was lifelong and based on parentage. Even in the early colonies, children born to slaves were free. With the modification to make only one racial group enslaved, many whites in the South, whether slaveowners or not, viewed black persons merely as property and not as people. Language evolved to convey this derogatory view "and no word conveyed the depth of this internalized oppression more than [the N word]." While hateful, derogatory labels have existed well before the New World was discovered by Europeans and have been used to describe other groups beyond those of African heritage, the fact is that US slavery being race-based made a huge impact on how a specific racial group was seen and treated.

After slavery ended, hate groups, the Ku Klux Klan (KKK) in particular, were established not only to speak against (and harass and physically attack) the freedoms newly freed blacks enjoyed, but also against black persons themselves. Additionally, the KKK was vocally and physically violent against Catholic and Jewish persons, as well as other groups. The KKK is simply one example of a hate group that arose to attack—verbal, physically, or both—individuals based on one or more "identity factor."

This paper is not suggesting that only black persons have been persecuted based on identity factors in the US. Sadly, there are many groups that have had hate speech hurled and acts of violence committed against them—Jews, Mormons, Latinx, Japanese Americans, Native Americans, Irish, LGBT, and so on—more than can be mentioned here. The example of black persecution laid out above is meant merely to be a single instance of a group well-known to encounter hate speech and other hateful acts.

Hate speech online and on social media

In the second chapter of her book Hate Crimes in Cyberspace, Danielle Keats Citron explores what it is about the Internet that seems to promote hate speech. "Some of the Internet's key features—anonymity, mobilization of groups, and group polarization—make it more likely that people will act destructively." Citron offered two examples of hate speech directed towards Sports Illustrated writer Jeff Pearlman. In both cases, Pearlman tracked down his attackers and confronted them about their vitriolic comments. Each individual was shocked by the confrontation and admitted their embarrassment, suggesting that "the internet got the best of [them]."

Since the introduction of social media platforms, groups have been able to form based on shared interests or identity factors. While this has been wonderful for niche and marginalized groups, it has also proven to be a fertile breeding ground for hate groups. Prior to his attack of a Pittsburgh synagogue and killing eleven, accused attacker Robert Bowers used the defunct social media platform Gab to share his anti-Semitic views. Prior to Gab’s infrastructure collapsing, the platform had been a favorite meeting place of white supremacists. Had Gab not enabled these hate groups to gather, could the Pittsburgh shooting have been avoided?

Definition of free speech

The first amendment of the US Constitution states that "Congress shall make no law… abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press…". This amendment serves as the basis for free speech laws throughout the country, though it should be noted that private (or even publicly traded) companies are not prevented from enacting their own limits of speech. Also, the First Amendment does not provide any protection towards citizens who exercise their freedom of speech and suffer consequences from doing so, e.g., getting fired for making insensitive remarks. For the past seven decades, when the US Supreme Court is asked to rule on a case where the freedom of speech is a factor, the judicial body has shown that it is very likely to come down in favor of the First Amendment. This is significant as it illustrates the high level of importance assigned to free speech by the US federal government.

Three components that make this an ethical problem

Polarization

One reason hate speech is so alarming is because it is such a powerful tool. Hate groups are able to provoke violent actions in their members—nearly all recent mass shootings have been motivated by hatred. This type of radicalization makes hate groups dangerous, and not just towards the objects of their hate. "'It wasn't any one group—I hated everyone,' [former white supremacist Frank] Meeink remembers."

Dehumanization of victims

Referring to the men’s rights movement Reddit group r/Redpill, writer J. F. Sargent breaks down how they view the object of their hatred: women. "Women are commodities to be acquired and subjugated. They are conquests—things that determine your worth as a human." Viewing objects of hate as subhuman is common for hate groups.

Censorship

Despite his many, many flaws, President Trump signed an executive order to prevent online censorship, which should be commended. However, less than two months later, Trump issued another executive order effectively banning the social media platform TikTok, a move many see as a form of censorship. As stated previously, the US Supreme Court holds free speech in high regard. The US was founded by a group who felt their voices were not being heard ("no taxation without representation"), so silencing any individual's or group's voice should be taken very seriously.

Management of the Issue

Clearly there is a problem with hate speech on social media, but how can it be addressed? Following are some recommendations.

Let platforms govern themselves

Platforms have already started policing hate speech, though some better than others. Famously, Facebook announced last year that it had created a managing board to judge whether flagged content could remain up or would need to be taken down. The system is not perfect, but the company is taking steps to control hate speech, as well as misinformation. Other platforms have also put in place their own guidelines, with Reddit's as a standout for how much freedom is allowed. However, this approach leaves the decision of what to allow and how to act in the hands of the platforms. What if the restrictions are too tight, not allowing users to share information freely? Conversely, what if the restrictions are too loose, permitting violent breeding grounds as was seen with Gab?

Follow Europe's lead

In 2008, the European Union passed legislation which stated "that hate speech would be sanctioned and punitive measures could be taken against individuals or groups engaged in hate speech." Laws like this create incentive to not engage in hateful speech. However, it also makes speaking one’s mind a potentially criminal offense. Add to that the fact that a similar law in the US would likely require a constitutional amendment, what is the likelihood of a law of this nature being passed in the increasingly polarized and tribalist congress?

Expand Defamation Laws

If we cannot trust social media platforms to police themselves and we cannot expect a criminal law to be created, perhaps the best route is to apply defamation law. Defamation is "a false statement presented as a fact that causes injury or damage to the character of the person it is about." By allowing defamation to encompass hate speech—including hate speech online and on social media—those who are the subject of hate speech would have a legal path through which to seek damages from their attacker, while those who wish to continue to engage in hate speech are free to do so without fear of being prosecuted by the state. The burden of proof would rest on the plaintiff, which would require a standard definition of hate speech. Additionally, social media platforms would no longer be held responsible for what their users say—similar to how email services are not sued for allowing an unsavory letter to be delivered.

Foreseeing Oversights

Even though the proposed expansion of defamation law seems like the best fit considering US laws, such a law’s introduction will likely bring with it new challenges.

Different Laws in Each State

Since defamation laws differ from state to state, each state would need to pass their own version. That does mean that some states will likely have stricter laws than others, which can make it challenging when both parties live in different states.

Legal loopholes

When drafting the new laws, legislators—whether through overzealousness, malicious negligence, or merely unseen omissions—may use wording that is either too ambiguous or too narrow-sighted. If this happens, it may allow for some crafty attorney in the future to have the suit dismissed, despite their client actually being responsible.

Frivolous Suits

The US has been accused of being a "sue happy" nation, so what is stopping an annoyed and/or money hungry individual from accusing an innocent person of defamation and bringing suit against them?

Responses and Application

Different Laws in Each State: Use Divorce Law as the Guide

One solution could be for the expanded defamation laws to work similar to divorce laws, i.e., the plaintiff decides in which state they want to file their suit, the state in which they live or the state in which the defendant lives. Another issue is when different states adopt different definitions of hate speech, but that can be addressed by using the definition in the state wherein the plaintiff files suit.

Legal Loopholes: Close Them over Time

Legal loopholes are almost certainly going to arise and the way to address them will be the same way legal loopholes are addressed now: to close the loopholes as they are discovered. Legislators will need to be careful with their wording as they draft the new laws and they, and concerned citizens, will need to watch closely for when unclear wording is abused. When this happens, it is time campaign for changes to the law.

Frivolous Suits: Innocent until Proven Guilty

Since the burden of proof is on the plaintiff, the defendant is innocent until proven otherwise. There are people who use current laws to bring forth frivolous defamation suits, but these are mostly thrown out. The difference with the current law and this proposed law is that, with regard to hate speech, no proof of suffering will be required, simply proof that the defendant engaged in hate speech directed at the plaintiff or a group with which the plaintiff identifies.

As this paper has explicitly detailed, hate speech is a powerful weapon that in some cases has resulted in the loss of human lives. With social media, that hatred is shared much faster and farther than ever before. Clearly something must be done, while still protecting free speech. By expanding defamation law, the ability to combat hate speech is given directly to those who are its target, giving power to those who were before merely victims.

Wedding Party

After being sealed together at the Washington, DC Temple, Leah and I headed back up to Harford County for the wedding reception. When we arrived, preparations were still being made, though the majority had been done on the days leading up. What was left was mostly related to food. We had a relatively simple meal of baked ham, baked potatoes, and green beans, helpfully prepared by people of Debbie's ward.

Leah's younger brother Ryan and his wife Dana preparing food in the kitchen

Look at that spread!

We also had lots and lots of sugar. We had a hot chocolate bar (which used a cocoa mix that I made myself) with oodles of toppings and a chocolate fountain with lots dipping choices. We got lots of compliments on both features, though the biggest compliments were from our young nieces and nephews who, towards the end, were running around with chocolate smeared on their faces, resembling hyperactive Dickensian orphans.

Sherlin provided all of the calligraphy work 

A dream come true

Since we knew we’d be hungry, we scheduled dinner first, which was served buffet style (we already recruited cooks, I can't imagine recruiting servers). After some time to eat and visit, speeches were given by the Matron of Honor, Rachel, and the Best Man, Isaac. Rachel, one of two of Leah's best friends, gave a sweet speech about how she sees how happy I make Leah. Isaac’s speech was about how salt is a seasoning that brings out the best flavors in a dish and how Leah is the salt in my life. Both Leah and I were touched by their heartfelt words.

Raise your mugs in a toast!

Rachel mentioned that I made her a pie for her birthday, which helped win her over

I admit to being a little confused at the beginning of Isaac's speech at first, but he really brought it all together at the end

Next, came our first dance. We had a little trouble picking a song, largely because Leah and I have different musical preferences, but we settled on "All of Me" by John Legend—I liked it because it has a traditional jazz feel and she liked it because the lyrics are sweetly romantic. As we danced, we talked and made each other smile and even laugh, which is kind of perfect for us.

Looks like we caught Leah mid-giggle

After our first dance, the floor was opened for everyone to dance. (I may post our song list later, but one song that’s proven to be Leah’s "get-up-and-go" song, was featured early on.) We didn’t get a chance to do any more dancing because we were pulled away for more pictures.

 We are full of sugar, so we must dance!

Sugar highs lead to sugar crashes

Leah's oldest brother, Rob, had to leave the temple early and wasn't there when we exited, thus he missed the family pictures. Since he was at the reception, we decided to try again and gathered in the Relief Society room. Being in a heated building made pictures much easier than the chilly winds outside the temple, so everyone loosened up and had fun.

The newest member of the Grabowski family 

It's nice to have the support of my wife's family

After pictures and a little crowd work, we cut our wedding cake that Sherlin had very kindly prepared for us. Leah had warned me ahead of time not to smash the cake in my face, which I wasn't planning on anyway: smashing the cake in the bride or groom's face is only funny if it's unexpected, but people have been doing it for a long time, so it's no longer unexpected and thus not funny. The tiers that were sliced up were lemon-raspberry and funfetti with sprinkles of our colors of purple and silver, but the way they melted made the cake look like it was blueberry-flavored. Regardless, it was quite tasty.

The youngest guest, Emma, with the eldest guest, Grandma Bonnie

We even found a way to include Pinto!

Cut…

… and serve

Two flavor options

The time flew by and before we realized, it was time to leave. Instead of throwing rice or blowing bubbles, we had our guests hold up sparklers. (Our photographer told us later that she's seen sparkler send offs before, but ours was the best looking she’d ever seen.)

Sparks were really flying that night

Once we got to my car, we discovered that it had been "decorated." At some point during the reception, Margot came and got my keys from me, not saying why she needed them, so I assumed that the car was being prepared for our departure, though I wasn't prepared for what was actually done. The car had been plastic-wrapped to a nearby light pole, though that was easy enough to remove. What was particularly annoying was that the car was filled from floor to ceiling with balloons. I pulled out enough balloons from the passenger side so that Leah could get in, but when I started doing the same on the driver's side, someone took pity on me and passed me an unlit sparkler, of which I was able to use the handle to pop the remaining balloons. With the balloons gone, I got into the car and drove home with my new bride.

 That's not too bad

Leah thought it was funnier than I did

A man unamused

I'm really happy with how the wedding reception turned out. A lot of work was done by not a lot of people in a short period of time and I'm so happy with the result. The reception was a way for us to celebrate our new marriage with our friends and family, which I think we accomplished in spades.

Mere symbols of our covenants, but ones that match

The Road to the Temple

We all know that Leah and I got married, but because I'd taken a break from blogging, I don't have an entry on it. Let's fix that.

After I proposed to Leah on December 25, 2016, I called to make an appointment for our sealing at the Washington, DC Temple. As the sister working in scheduling collected my information, she noticed that I had been previously sealed and asked if I had an approval letter to be sealed a second time. I told her that I did not and, in fact, didn't know that I needed one. She explained that she would not be able to book our sealing until after I received the approval letter and that I would need to contact my Bishop, who would start the process. I thanked her for her help and hung up.

The process for getting approved to be sealed a second time was not easy. I had to listed in as much detail as possible any sins I had committed since my previous sealing, even those resolved with priesthood leaders. That alone was emotionally grueling, but then I had to do it again for the Stake President. I met with my Bishop and Stake President multiple times, the latter of whom suggested that we consider a civil marriage with a sealing to follow a year later. Leah and I both prayed about that option and felt that despite the difficulties we were facing, we wanted to "do it right" and get married in the Temple.

After meeting with the Bishop and Stake President several more times, our paperwork was submitted to the First Presidency for review. A little over a month later, Leah and I were called in to meet with the Stake President, who informed us that he had heard from Salt Lake: we needed to resubmit in four months. That was frustrating, but we obeyed and on December 26, 2017, I finally received my approval letter, signed by President Monson.

Starting from when I had first proposed a year before, Leah had been planning our wedding and reception. By the time I got my approval letter, she had her dress, all of the decorations, and had hired a photographer. Unfortunately, the Washington, DC Temple was scheduled to close for two years for renovation on March 4, so we were running out time if we wanted to be married there. During her preparations, Leah had even got us significantly discounted cruise tickets that we hoped to use as our honeymoon, but that meant that we would need to be married before the cruise left on February 9. So, we picked February 3 as our wedding date, which gave us a nice numerical pneumonic: 2/3.

In what seemed like a mad rush, we scheduled time at the Temple for Leah's endowment and our sealing; booked the Cultural Hall at the chapel of the ward we'd be in as a married couple; designed, ordered, and mailed out our wedding invitations; and planned the menu and conscripted people to help with food. It was a flurry of work—most of which Leah is responsible for—but we got it all ready.

I'm really pleased with how the invitations turned out, especially since I wrote the text

Thus, on February 3, 2018 Leah and I were sealed for all eternity at the Washington, DC Temple, surrounded by our endowed friends and family (we had enough people in attendance that we were moved to one of the larger sealing rooms). While it was a lovely ceremony, what was truly wonderful was that we had made important covenants that will last beyond our mortal lives.

It took a while, but I'm glad we did it right

A kiss worth waiting for!

Afterwards, we went outside and took pictures with the rest of our family. It was chilly that day, though still surprisingly warm for early February. In between pictures, Leah and several of the women grabbed a coat to keep warm. We took all of the family pictures first so that our families could be excused. Once Leah, the photographer and I felt we had enough pictures outside the Temple, we drove back up to Harford, County to prepare for the reception.

Notice all of the coats and jackets

The memories made that day may fade and the pictures taken may be lost, but the covenants Leah and I made that day will last longer than man can comprehend. For that, I am truly grateful.

How to Ruin My Day

I went to the bank today and the teller greeted me by asking "How are you?" Without thinking, I gave my standard reply: "Okay." That's when another teller asked, "Just okay?"

This isn't the first time I've had someone challenge my answer to that question and every time it pisses me off. First, there's an inherent condescension, implying that my first answer wasn't good enough. And second, it ignores the point of the question. "How are you?" and the like are salutations similar to "hello." Any reply I give that's even moderately positive is simply me acknowledging the greeting.

When I was challenged, I replied "It's better than being [expletive deleted]." The teller who had rejected my first response laughed, apparently not noticing the tone in my voice. I was annoyed, but I tried to ignore it and just take care of my business.

When I was finishing up, the teller who challenged me said that she hoped my day would get better. I had tried to ignore her, but she brought it up back up. I asked her why she challenged me and she seemed legitimately taken aback. "I just always say I'm doing wonderful," she said.

"Not everyone has to say that," I said, pointedly, "and that should be fine. You kind of ruined my day." Then I walked out, noting that she didn't even offer an apology.

I made it back to the office in a sour mood, but I welcomed the distraction. Then, about thirty minutes before closing, the branch manager called me, asking me how my earlier visit had been. I've never gotten a courtesy call before, so I'm guessing she heard about the exchange. I told her what happened, making sure to point out that the teller who actually helped me had been quite pleasant, and explain why I had been so offended. The manager promised that she would address the matter and thanked me for my candor.

I try to avoid conflict, but today it seemed unavoidable.

Self-induced Sleepiness

As mentioned before, I have to take allergy medication everyday in order to function at my peak. My medication of choice, Flonase, contains low levels of steroids. I had a mild case of bronchitis a few weeks ago and was given a steroid pack to take, which meant I needed to stop using the Flonase for a while and switch to something different. The different medication worked great, so when I had finished the pack, I decided to try using both. However, this made me feel sleepy, so sleepy that I had trouble staying awake at work. Unfortunately, I didn't realize it was the double dose of allergy medication that was causing my drowsiness (despite this exact thing happening before). Not until I had finished off the replacement medication, anyhow.

I have a lousy memory, but this blog helps me recall the past, but only if I review it.

Results

So, Donald Trump is the new president.  You may recall that I predicted that this very thing would never happen.  I’m mature enough to admit that I was wrong, though that’s not the purpose of this post.  Instead, I’d like to offer my thoughts about the recent election, including the results.

First, as I already mentioned, I didn’t support either candidate.  I felt that both Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton were bad choices, so I voted for someone who I believed would do the best job, despite knowing that he had no real chance of succeeding.  I feel good about my decision and I’m glad that I voted the way that I did.

Second, I was surprised that Trump won.  Polls showed Clinton as the leader, though by a narrow margin.  In addition to the polls, most media outlets mocked the Trump campaign and his supporters, leading many people—including me—to believe that while the election would be close, Clinton would be the victor.  When Trump won, I think we were all caught off guard. However, that’s actually a bit inspiring.  My boss, Magda, is originally from Poland and spent several years in Mexico.  She’s seen her share of rigged elections and she thought that Trump’s success proved that the American election process was honest.  As she put it, “It shows that the system works.”  Despite my lack of support for the president-elect, I must admit that her words do give me hope.

Third, I think I understand where Trump supporters are coming from.  When I served my mission in northern Ohio, I spent the majority of my time in more rural areas.  I remember one town in particular that had once been a manufacturing hub with four different plants.  By the time I visited, three of the plants had shut down and the third had slowed production.  The town was dying and the residents didn’t know how to cope.  I also remember meeting farmers who were using old, outdated equipment because, despite receiving government subsidies, they couldn’t afford to replace anything.  Most (if not all) of Obama’s policies benefited the working poor and middle class in cities, not the country.  After eight years of a president who they felt was ignoring them, the people who didn’t live in a major city wanted someone very different.  While Trump certainly had supporters in urban communities, the majority of his success was with people out in the country.

Fourth, protests are happening in cities across the US because of Trump’s surprise victory.  But what’s the end goal of those involved?  This isn’t like other recent protests such as those condemning police brutality—in those cases, the protestors wanted to be treated better by police, something that should happen anyway. With the case of the new president-elect, the protestors are complaining about not getting their way.  Besides that, Trump isn’t even president yet.  He’s been elected, but he won’t be sworn in until early next year.  Even if we don’t trust Trump, can’t we at least give our fellow Americans the benefit of the doubt for choosing him?  And even if we can’t there’s nothing that can be done at this point.  If he’s a bad president, he can be impeached, but there is no constitutional way to prevent him from taking office come January.

Finally, I was disappointed by how little respect Trump supporters got from the media.  Not the man himself—Trump makes himself an easy target for ridicule—but the citizens who attended his rallies and put his signs in their front yards.  They were depicted as dumb hicks and religious zealots who were too stupid to be reasoned with.  The fact that they were mocked so much may have had a hand in the election’s outcome.  While I haven’t heard of anyone saying that they voted for Trump as a way of protesting this mockery, I’m sure that at the very least it kept them from considering Clinton.  I imagine one of these people watching Saturday Night Live, Last Week Tonight, or even The Tonight Show and hearing something to the equivalent of “Are you thinking about voting for Trump?  Here’s a list of ways that you’re stupid.”  That kind of rhetoric isn’t going to convince anyone that isn’t already on your side.

I do like some of the things I’ve seen (mostly on Facebook) where people are sharing the sentiment that we need to unite as a citizenry and respect each other and the way we voted.  I didn’t vote for Trump and I don’t care for the man or his politics, but I believe in this country.  America is not a bunch of rules and documents; it’s people who believe in each other and those who have gone before us.  I believe in America and I hope that the rest of my brothers and sister in this, the greatest nation in the world, can share that faith with me.

New Policy

For many years, I have felt strongly about not giving money to panhandlers.  I have good motivation for feeling this way.  In one area of my mission, my companion and I knew a homeless man who regularly asked us for money that would almost certainly go to booze (he was at the stage of his alcoholism that he was having seizures if he didn’t drink every day).  I don’t want to help fuel an addiction, and since I can’t be sure where the money is going, I don’t give to anyone.

(Now, I do want to say that if a person on the street is playing music, I happily contribute.  They’re working as performers, which is a very different situation than simply saying, “Give me money for nothing.”)

However, just because I don’t want to unintentionally support an addict, that doesn’t mean that I’m unfeeling.  If I could lend support to the men and women I encounter in a way that can’t be used for drugs or alcohol, I would be interested in that.  Turns out, there’s something easy I can do that’s really a no-brainer, if only I had thought of it: water bottles.  Leah keeps a case of water bottles in her car, partly for her own use and partly so she has something she can give to panhandlers.  I thought the idea was fantastic, so I adopted it.  I was excited to be able to help out the destitute of my community, but since buying the case of water, I either haven’t seen a panhandler or I only see them when the light is green.  Even so, I’m sure that I’ll have a chance to give a bottle away soon enough.

I’m grateful that I have such a kind and clever girlfriend who inspires me to want to help those around.

General Conference, October 2016

Once again, we've come to that time of year where we get to enjoy a lovely weekend of being edified and uplifted by the servants of the Lord in the worldwide broadcast that is General Conference.  I watched the Saturday sessions with Leah, who was a great companion throughout (though I'm sure it didn't hurt that I made homemade burrito bowls for us).  On Sunday, we went and visited with Ian, Sherlin, and the kids.  The kids who watched (Henry, Aeva, and Clara) were surprisingly well behaved, though they were clearly antsy by the end of the final session.  Sherlin was a great hostess and provided snacks for the sessions and dinner once the whole thing was over.  It was great to spend time with people whom I care so much about.

As for the conference itself, one major theme really jumped out to me: repentance.  While repentance is easy to turn into a message of doom and despair, nearly every talk (if not every single one) that mentioned it was hopeful, focusing on the joy of a clear conscience and a clean soul.  Sister Linda S. Reeves' talk on the matter was particularly poignant.

I always enjoy General Conference, though I like it best when I can share it with my loved ones, as I was able to this time.

Broke

I enjoy baking.  This is not news.  An important tool (the most important tool, one might argue) is the oven.  It's easy to take the oven for granted, with it being one of the main fixtures of any kitchen.

At least until it stops working.

Last week, while I had a batch of cookies in the oven, I heard an odd click.  When the timer beeped, the cookies were still raw.  I tried resetting the oven, but it didn't do anything.  I checked the burners, but none of them worked either.  I thought it might be a tripped circuit breaker, except that the clock on the oven still worked.  I was left with a batch of pumpkin cookie dough and no way to finish them.

I called and left a message for maintenance, explaining that I needed the oven and stove in order to feed myself.  This was Wednesday of last week and it still wasn't working by Friday, with no word on when it would be repaired.  I called on Friday and talked to an attendant at the front office, who wrote down my information.  I spent the weekend without a working stove and oven.

I stopped by my apartment during my lunch break on Monday and no repairs had been made.  I called yet again, and had to leave another message.  I was certainly feeling neglected and expressed my frustration to Leah.  Without my asking her, she spoke to the office employee and, what do you know, my name was next on the list for repairs.  When I got home from work yesterday, the oven thankfully worked again.

I don't know if all of my calls made a difference or if my name was taken down the first time and no one bothered to tell me.  Either way, I'm glad that I can once again feed myself without having to rely on Hot Pockets and microwavable burritos.

Beck: Live in Concert

Last night, I saw my favorite musician, Beck, perform live in Charlottesville, Virginia.  And it was amazing.

Leah came with me, despite not being familiar with Beck's music beyond his biggest hit, "Loser."  I took advantage of the long drive down to the venue to introduce her to some of his discography -- it probably would have been better if I had played just some of my favorites, but I just set my iPod to shuffle through my Beck collection, though I pointed out when a particular song really spoke to me.

Once we got down to Charlottesville, we checked into our hotel so we could just go straight to sleep after the show.  When it was time to head over to the amphitheater, I suddenly felt the bottom of my stomach drop away: I had forgotten the tickets.  I immediately started having a panic attack and even started crying, but Leah came to my rescue and told me to look up the confirmation email so I could show my proof of purchase to get replacement tickets.  I searched for said email, but nothing came up.  I called Ticketmaster and worked my way through the phone tree (and multiple disconnections) while Leah called the concert venue, Sprint Pavilion.  I never got through to anyone, but Leah did and found out that as long as I have my ID and the credit card I used, the staff at the venue would be able issue me new tickets.  I felt a lot better, but I didn't completely calm down until I had the replacement tickets in hand.

A picture to remember where we parked becomes a fun memory with the addition of a cute pose.

(I know that I spent years in a relationship with an emotionally abusive partner, so my perspective is warped, but I was truly touched when Leah wouldn't let me give up after my blunder.  She helped me find a solution and didn't abandon me when my anxiety got the best of me.  I cannot thank her enough for what she did for me.)

Despite getting in line right when the doors opened, we were able to quickly make it to the front of the audience.  The way the amphitheater is set up, there were no seats at the front, just an open area in which to stand and we were third or fourth from the very front.  For the most part people were well behaved and didn't try force their way to the front (the exception being two rather short teenaged girls near the beginning and a drunk guy near the end of the show).

A selfie while the opening act tuned their instruments.

The opening act was a band from Sweden called Peter Bjorn and John, which was confusing for me because they left out a much needed comma from their band's name (the three founding members of the band are Peter, Bjorn, and John, for which the band is named).  They were a great band to get the crowd in the mood.  The lead guitarist and singer was very energetic and jumped around a lot while he played: there was even one song where he only sang and he walked through the audience, with lots of people giving him high fives (the high fives didn't start until after he passed us, so I never got one).  I enjoyed the music they played and was especially surprised when I heard a song I recognized, "Young Folks."  They only played for about thirty minutes, but I'm glad I got to see them.

My view for the evening.

It took about thirty-five minutes for the road crew to clear Peter Bjorn and John's set from the stage and for Beck's band to start playing.  The man of the hour came out after the music had already started, allowing the crowd to really get amped up.  The band started with the classic song, "Devi's Haircut," but with extra solos.  And no Beck performance would be complete without a rendition of the song that made him famous, "Loser," which was the second song of the night.  His crowd work was great, pointing the mic to the audience for every chorus.  I looked over at Leah and even though she only kind of knew the song, she was really into it.

I liked that Beck sang some songs and picked up his guitar and played while singing for others.  Even though he let his backup band carry the majority of the songs, make no mistake: this guy can play.

After one particularly moving song, "Paper Tiger," Beck asked a girl in the audience if she was okay, because she had been moved to tears.  She apparently said that she was because he kept going, but you could tell that he was touched that she had felt something so powerful through his music.

And like every good show, there was even a costume change:

Maybe not a particularly exciting costume change, but I appreciated the effort.

About halfway into the show, Beck introduced the members of his band, though I didn't catch any of their names.  Still, here's what they look like:

During the bassist's introduction, he started playing Micheal Jackson's "Billie Jean" and the rest of the band joined in. Beck pointed the mic at the audience for the chorus and later commented that we were "surprisingly in key." 

As the band worked their way through many of Beck's bigger hits, I kept track in my head if there were any major ones that had been left out.  Just as I was worried that one of his biggest hits (and one of my personal favorites) would be excluded, "E-pro" was played as the closing song.  The band quickly vacated the stage, but the audience stayed and cheered for a solid minute, so Beck (unaccompanied) came back out for an encore!  He sang and played his harmonica, which resulted in even more cheers.  After this final song, the roadies came and started breaking down the set, a clear sign that the show was over.

There were a lot of ups and downs leading up to this show, but in the end I had a great time.  I loved the music, I loved the company, and I'm glad I took a ridiculous number of pictures.  I'm exhausted, but it was worth it for the experience.

Lysine to the Rescue

At some point during my childhood, I contracted the herpes simplex 1 virus, or HSV-1.  This virus causes cold sores and fever blisters and once a person contracts it, they have it for life.  These mouth sores are little more than annoying, so the fact that it's incurable is really a non-issue.  Plus, I usually only get fever blisters once every few years, so I haven't really had to worry about it.

Or I didn't, until I had a girlfriend who doesn't have the virus.  And guess what showed up this week?  Two cold sores right next to each other.

I know that increased stress can lower the immune system and that's usually when HSV-1 strikes.  I've been facing a lot of deadlines at work lately, so it makes sense that I've been more stressed than usual.  Still, though, I didn't like the idea of growing a festering wound on my lip, so I looked up remedies.  Holding ice to the sores throughout the day is supposed to help, but that didn't do much for me.  Applying tea tree oil thrice daily is also supposed to speed up the healing process, but I didn't notice a difference.  However, lysine (or rather, a topical ointment with lysine as the active ingredient) worked like a charm.

I first noticed the cold sores coming in on Monday morning and, after trying ice and tea tree oil with no results, I started using the lysine ointment on Wednesday afternoon.  I've been applying the ointment frequently throughout the day (about once an hour) and as of this writing, one sore is gone and very little of the other remains.

If you have HSV-1 and suffer from either cold sores or fever blisters, try lysine.  It worked wonders for me.

Witness

After the baseball game a couple of weeks ago, I was driving home when I witnessed a car accident.

Traffic had been heavy near the city, but it opened up as I got farther away. On the freeway I was on, there are four lanes, which I will reference to as the lane closest to the center median as lane one and so on, with lane four being the far right lane.  As I neared the Fort McHenry tunnel, I tried changing lanes, moving from lane three to lane two (with the ultimate destination being lane one), but I saw a car in lane one move over to lane two where I wanted to be.  I was annoyed that he moved to where I wanted to be, so I slowed down and let him pass me.

Once he was in front of me, I kept an eye on him.  He kept moving from lane to lane, never using his blinker. I thought he was either a dumb kid messing around or was distracted (likely on a cell phone).  As I watched him, I noticed an electric sign with a flashing orange arrow in lane one, indicating that we needed to merge to the right—the Fort McHenry tunnel is made up of four tunnels with two lanes each (two tunnels going north and two going south) and occasionally half of the tunnels will be closed for maintenance, which was the case that night.  Not only did the driver who kept moving around not see the electric arrow, he drifted too far to the left and hit the center median, sending sparks flying.  Seconds after he hit the median, his car hit the electric arrow and he careened across the other lanes, finally stopping in lane four.

After witnessing the crash, I quickly decided to stop and see if the driver was okay.  I pulled over just ahead of him, parking my car in lane four with my hazard lights flashing (in retrospect, I should have pulled all the way over into the shoulder, though my car was fine where it was).  A truck driver also saw the crash and stopped his rig, blocking traffic immediately behind us.  I walked up to the crashed car (a white sedan that I would guess was at least ten years old), which judging from the damage, would never be drivable again.  The driver, a white male in his early twenties with a scruffy beard, was in shock but otherwise appeared to be fine.  He rolled down the window so we could speak.  While not word for word, our conversation went something like this:

ME: You okay, man?

HIM: Uh, I think so.

ME: Okay, good. Have you called 911, yet?

HIM: No.

ME: Okay, I’m going to call them.

HIM: Can I call my dad first?

ME: Let me call and get emergency services out here first, but after I call, yeah, you can call your dad.

I made the call and told the dispatcher where we were, which was easy since we had stopped right next to a mile marker.  She told me that crews would be on the way soon.  I then asked the kid (whose name was Billy) for his dad’s number so I could call.  With the number dialed, I passed Billy the phone.  His dad didn’t pick up, which makes sense since it was approaching midnight and my number would only show up as “unknown.”  Billy left a voicemail and passed the phone back.  With the calls made, we waited.

During all of this, the trucker walked over and checked on us and told me that he would wait for the road crew to arrive before taking off.  I expressed my gratitude and he walked back to the cab of his truck.  I asked Billy if he wanted to get out of the car and he decided that was a good idea.  I could tell that he was still in shock, so I decided to talk to him to try to get his mind off of what happened.  I asked him if had done any drinking that night (which I realize now was not a great opener), with the assurance that I wouldn’t say anything to the police.  His response?  “Obviously.”  I told him that at least he was okay, so things would work out.  He then started having a bit of a panic attack, saying that he wished that he had died in the crash.  He even got in my face a bit too close and said that if I had a gun that I should shoot him.  I think he was worried about getting a DUI on his record and didn’t want to face the consequences.  I tried to calm him down, but nothing worked, so I ended up just walking away, leaving Billy to lean against the side of his wreaked car.

Before too long, I saw lights flashing and heard sirens.  Before I saw any police, I saw the road crew come in so they could clean up the mess and get more than one lane of traffic flowing again.  The trucker told me that he was taking off so he would could his delivery and wished me well.  As the trucker walked away, I saw a police officer, so I walked up to him and explained that I was the witness who had called and gave my testimony of what I saw.  True to my word, I said nothing about Billy admitting to drinking that night.  I reasoned that my testimony of anything beyond what I actually saw would only count as hearsay and that the cops would use a breathalyzer anyway.  Once I got through everything, the officer asked me to wait in my car in case they needed anything else from me.

I waited in my car for about ten minutes when a different officer came up and tapped on the passenger window of my, which I rolled down so we could talk.  The officer gave me a paper form and a pen and asked me to write down my testimony, along with my contact information.  He also thanked me for staying saying, “Not a lot of people stay, so thank you.”  I filled up the allowed space on the form with my testimony, finishing just as the officer came to retrieve it.  He thanked me again for staying and told me that I may be called to testify in court, but that that was unlikely.  With that, I drove off, getting home around 12:30 AM.

The next morning, around 6:45 AM, Billy’s dad called me to ask how his son was doing.  I gave him the gist of what had happened and suggested that if he hadn’t heard from his son, that he call the Baltimore City police for more information.  He thanked me and wished me a good day before hanging up.  While the emotion strongest in Billy’s dad’s voice was concern, a close second was annoyance.  I think that Billy was arrested for driving under the influence and spent the night in jail.  I also suspect that it wasn’t Billy’s first time in that situation.

What I took from this experience more than anything else is how important it is to listen to promptings from the Spirit, even when we don’t realize that’s what they are.  I saw Billy switching back and forth between lanes with enough room to avoid him.  I decided to hang back and watch what he was doing, rather than speed up and pass him (which may have made me a part of the accident).  Once the accident occurred, I pulled over to check on him.  All of that was from the Spirit, subtly directing me, first keeping me safe, then keeping Billy safe.  I’m grateful that I was able hear the promptings and that I heeded them.

Lack of Consistency

Dear reader, I've been doing a lousy job of writing content for this blog.  What was once a part of my normal routine has been pushed to the background and it's hard to make it a priority.  There are multiple reasons for this change:

• I used to watch TV shows on my computer, so opening up the blog to write a post was really easy.  Now with my TV, I have to remember just to turn the computer on.
• Nearly every evening, my time is occupied.  Whether it's a ward activity, missionary correlation, the gym, or just texting Leah, I'm a lot busier than I used to be.
• Leah is taking up a lot of my free time.  That is not a complaint (quite the opposite!), but a statement of fact.
• Facebook makes it easy to post little updates all the time.  Even if I don't post anything there for a week or two, I feel more connected simply by scrolling through my news feed.

I apologize for neglecting the blog and I wish I could say that I was going to double my efforts to update regularly, but I'm actually going to do the opposite: I'm going to two days a week.  I think with the reduced schedule, one that's a bit more practical, I'll be able to actually keep to it (also, that's the most I've been posting for the last couple of months anyway).  My plan is post on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the days may shift around a bit.

I know some of you rely on this blog to know how I'm doing, so I hope that the new schedule will allow me to do so more consistently.

Close Call

I returned to the dentist this week so that my teeth could be drilled and filled.  Remember how my three cavities weren't very deep?  Well, for some reason, the x-ray didn't show the severity of the decay in my teeth.  It turns out that my cavities run deep, with one going so deep that I narrowly missed having to have a root canal.  I may still get my chance in the future, but for now it seems to be taken care of.  Even so, the doctor mentioned more than once that he was having to drill deeper than expected on all three teeth.

The take away from this experience?  Don't skip dental visits for seven years or your teeth will fall apart.

Meet-cute

At Church on Sunday, before Sacrament Meeting started, I noticed a girl who I hadn't seen before.  She was cute and I made a point to introduce myself once the meeting was over, but I was delayed and when I looked over to where she had been sitting, she was gone.  I shrugged it off and I went to teach Sunday School.

After Priesthood was over I went to collect my container that I had brought the cookies in from the Relief Society room, when I saw the cute girl from earlier.  I took advantage of the second chance and walked over and said "hi."  The reason I hadn't seen Leah (the girl's name) before was that she had just gotten back from vacation in Washington State where she was visiting her sister for the past three weeks.  We were really hitting it off and I was getting ready to ask for her number when some guy walked up and started talking to us.  With the guy standing right there, it felt awkward to ask for her number, so I simply told her that it was nice meeting her and left, though I decided that when I saw her next Sunday, I would ask for her number.

Monday evening, I got an email from an LDS dating site, telling me that I had a new message.  This surprised me because while I had set up a profile on the site, I thought I had deactivated it.  Curious, I went to the site to investigate.  Now, with dating sites, you can set up a profile for free and can even send other users messages, but in order to read the messages you receive, you have to pay a membership fee.  I had never paid that fee, so I couldn't read the message.  However, I was able to see who sent it.  Then, I went and looked at who had recently viewed my profile, which you can also do for free.  Sure enough, the last person who had viewed my profile was the same one who had sent me the message.  I clicked on the profile and saw that it was Leah from church the day before.  Turns out I wasn't the only one who was interested!  Since I couldn't read her message, I looked up her email in the Ward directory and wrote her a new email, explaining why I didn't respond to her message through the dating site.  I also gave her my phone number.

The next morning, I got a text from Leah.  Because she works evenings at a group home for developmentally disabled adults, she starts work right before I leave the office.  But she's able to text while at work, so we've been in communication ever since.  (She's 29 and also divorced with no kids.)  I suggested that she meet me for lunch near my office, so we could see each other before the weekend.  She accepted.  That's how I had lunch with a cute girl named Leah today.  I had a really great time and we're already planning to see each other again on Saturday (and on Sunday, too, of course).

I don't know if Leah and I will make it past the second date, but it sure is great to have met someone who's just as interested in me as I am in her.

Full Weekend

I know that it's a cliche that Mondays are so hard because they destroy our weekends, but I think Mondays are one of my favorite days of the workweek: everyone's coming back from the weekend, so expectations are lower compared to other days and it's the beginning of the week, so you aren't burned out from the corporate grind yet.  It's a nice balance.  And occasionally, it's nice to come back to work after a long, busy weekend.  The latter is what I experienced today.

What happened that wore me out?

• On Friday after work, I drove to DC for a joint-ward baptismal temple trip; afterwards, I went and got food with some girls from my ward, plus Jenn (the girl I met at the temple a couple of weeks ago -- we've decided to be friends, so it was nice to see her again)
• On Saturday, I went to the Post Office right as it opened in order to pick up a package (a new Kitchenaid stand mixer that my mom sent me -- thanks, Mom!) and then went to the church to help clean: I was the only representative from the Elder's Quorum (and I was late)
• Also on Saturday, I laid out by my apartment complex's pool; at my dermatology appointment last week, I was diagnosed with vitiligo and the doctor recommended that I get more sun exposure, so I figured that I might as well try to get a tan on my torso as well (yes, I'm sunburned, but only mildly so)
• In preparation for Sunday, I used my new mixer to make some double chocolate cookies
• On Sunday, I taught Sunday School -- it's not a new calling, I was just filling in for the regular teach who was on vacation; I incorporated the cookies into my lesson and then passed them out (and then I made sure the leftovers were passed around in Relief Society)
• My lesson apparently made an impact because after priesthood meeting, the bishop called me aside to tell me that he had gotten some positive feedback from some of those who attended the lesson (and he didn't even mention the cookies) -- I guess word travels fast
• After church, I asked if anyone wanted to go to a fireside at the DC Temple Visitor's Center that evening, saying that I would be happy to drive, I just didn't want to go alone
• I thought it was a YSA fireside; it wasn't
• My passengers were a sister who was baptized about about ten months ago and a brother who had just moved in the Friday before; I think they both got more out of the fireside that I did (I don't regret going, I was just really annoyed at myself for misunderstanding the nature of the meeting)
• After dropping people off, it was nearly 10 PM by the time I got home (for those keeping score at home, that's two trips to DC and back in three days)

As you can see, I had a valid reason for looking forward to starting work again today: I needed a regular work day just to take a break.

Chance Coincidence

I had the missionaries over for dinner last night (a different pair than before) and the Elder who gave the spiritual thought challenged me to share the gospel with someone soon.  I said I had a coworker in mind who might be ready, so I accepted the challenge.  Now, this particular coworker who I had in mind, is away at a trade show until sometime next week, so I didn't think too much of the Elder's challenge, at least for now.

At work today, I sent an email to someone and jokingly used the word moron (facetiously referring to myself).  This email was deemed humorous enough to be shared with a few friends, one of whom was the receptionist.  The receptionist responded back with a joke about how I left out the second M (making "moron" into "Mormon"), though only to her friend that sent it to her and not to me.  After all of this happened unbeknownst to me, I went and asked the receptionist an unrelated question.  Once she answered my question, she shared her joke with me, not realizing that it's a joke that I've heard off and on since high school.  And then, because I'm an explainer, I gave her a brief summary of the word Mormon (the prophet, the book, and the nickname for the church).

With that completed, I was going to walk back to my desk, but she asked another question: what do Mormons believe about karma?  (Not sure how she made that leap.)  So, I gave the Golden Rule as a quick answer, but then I delved a little deeper.  I explained that while we should do good, that doesn't mean that only good things will happen to us.  Sometimes bad things happen to us because of either our own or others' free agency or because God is placing an obstacle in our way so that when we overcome it, we're better for it.  I closed by quoting my current favorite scripture, 2 Nephi 5:27: "...we lived after the manner of happiness."  This seemed to really connect with her and she thanked me for sharing, adding "I needed that."  Before I walked away, I asked if she was interested in a Book of Mormon.  She said she was.

I wasn't planning that encounter and I'm not saying that it happened because the Elder challenged me to talk to someone, but it did all line up pretty well.  I don't know if anything will come of this exchange, but I'm glad I opened my mouth.

The Difference

Have you noticed anything about my blog post recently?  In the past few weeks, they've been frequently late and noticeably short (it's weird to think that it wasn't that long ago that I would write long essays just because a topic was on my mind).  The fact of the matter is, I've been exhausted lately and it's been getting progressively worse.  It's gotten so bad that I haven't been able to make it to the gym regularly in nearly a month -- and this week, I couldn't even make it there once.  I assumed that I wasn't getting enough sleep, but even after several days of going to bed early every night, I was still sleepy all the time.  Yesterday, I saw a connection I missed before: my new medication.

While I still feel that the oxcarbazepine is helping as far as my depression is concerned, I can't really enjoy it because I'm always pooped.  I talked to my neurologist today and she recommended that I scale back my dosage, to help take the edge off that side effect.  She also recommended that I talk to my regular doctor about exploring other options, including seeing a psychiatrist.  I suspect that she's a little frustrated that I asked to switch medications just a couple of months ago (she even said that fatigue is a better side effect than depression), but what I'm dealing with is seriously affecting my life, including my productivity at work.  For now, I've lowered my dosage according to her suggestion and she's ordered another round of blood work to see how my liver's doing.  I'll call my doctor on Tuesday and I guess we'll go from there.

I realize that when it comes to required medications like anti-convulsants, there's rarely a perfect fit; it's usually a matter of picking which side effects you hate the least.  Maybe it's time to consider levetiracitam again, but combine it with an anti-depressant...

Ten Years Ago

I was thinking today that things are very different for me than they were in 2006.  That was the year that I first experienced being let go.

Prior to that year, I had only ever quit my jobs, giving proper notice each time.  But I decided that I was ready for something new, so I took a job in construction.  I had never done anything like it before and it showed.  Three-and-a-half weeks in, I was let go (the reason I was given was that, despite my learning the job at a fast pace, there was just too much work to do, so someone with a couple of decades in the field was being hired as my replacement).  I hated working construction, so I was happy to have a reason to not do it any more, but it felt weird suddenly not having a job.  I remember feeling like I would find something new right away, but I was still worried that I wouldn't.

Two-and-a-half months later, I finally started my next job, this time in a printing house.  It was a decent job with nice perks, but the tight schedule meant that I couldn't continue taking classes at the community college I had been attending.  So, after another five months, I gave my two week notice without having my next job lined up.  This was different than before, not just because I was the one who terminated my employment, but because I had prayed about it and felt that I would be okay.  Sure enough, I found something in time so that I was able to start the new job without any down time.  That new job was with BNi, a company I worked for under different capacities for three years, still the longest stint I've had at one location.

While 2006 was my first experience with being let go, it would sadly not be my last -- I was even straight-up fired a couple of times.  Still, looking back, I learned a lot and I can certainly say that I'm in a better place than I was a decade ago.

A Worrying Series of Events

I've been on my new medication, oxcarbazepine, for nearly a month.  For the most part, I feel great.  It's the other times that have me worried.

While my depression has mostly dissipated, my anxiety has taken the opportunity to rear its ugly head again.  I don't know if my anxiety was always there and I just didn't notice it because of the depression or if only one can be experienced at a time, but whatever the case, I'm forced to maintain behaviors that will help me control my anxiety.  Thankfully, many of the same behaviors that work against depression also work against anxiety.  Also of benefit, while my anxiety has returned, I don't believe it's any stronger than it was before I started taking levetiracetam.  As far as my emotional health goes, I'm happy with the change.

Unfortunately, that's not the only issue.  Yesterday while I was at work, I experienced aphasia.  It was relatively mild, but it has me worried.  While I can chalk up the seizure I had two weeks ago to the transition, can I do the same with the aphasiatic episode?  I called my neurologist, but I haven't heard back from her yet (she works out of the local hospital and they suck at delivering messages).  Maybe the episode was due to something we can fix (maybe my dosage is too low or I have stop eating cheese or something), but it definitely has me worried.

My concern lies not only with the fact that aphasia may be a precursor for seizures, but also that I may have to switch back to levetiracetam and return to struggling to live my life.  Hopefully, I'll hear back from the doctor soon and we'll be able to solve the problem in a way that doesn't require me to switch back.