Me Before - After . . During . . . ? You

[Disclaimer: this post contains plot spoilers for the movie Me Before You.]

If you haven't heard by now, there is a lot of controversy surrounding the movie Me Before You. This movie is based on the book by Jojo Moyes (I haven't read the book, but I have watched the movie twice, so I'll be referencing it as both the movie and the book throughout this post). In a nutshell, Me Before You is about a young man, Will, who is involved in a motorbike accident, leaving him with Quadriplegia. A young woman, Louisa, becomes his caretaker. After living with it for two years, Will has decided to give his parents six more months before he is assisted in ending his own life. Louisa has no idea at first, but she eventually finds out about his decision and does everything in her power to show Will that regardless of his situation, life is worth living. And, being that this is a love story, the two become very fond of each other and, of course, fall in love. Louisa was sure she had succeeded in changing Will's mind, but nothing could have. No matter what she did, he was never going to change his mind. She becomes angry with him, calling him selfish and wishing they had never met. However, in the end, she goes to be with him in his last moments. Louisa gave Will the best possible last six months he could have lived. Throughout the movie, Will tells Louisa to "live boldly", and take adventures around the world, get out of the small town they both call home. He says to her, You only get one life. It is actually your duty to live it as fully as possible. Isn't that a little hypocritical?

So there has been a fair share of outrage from the disabled community. Ellen Clifford, an activist with the group "Not Dead Yet", says the story is guilty of "grossly misrepresenting the lives of the vast majority of disabled people", that the story says that those who are disabled are better off dead because having a disability is a tragedy, and their lives aren't even worth living. While I can understand where she is coming from, I have to respectfully disagree. This is a story about one person's experience with disability. This is a fictional movie, but Moyes bases her book off of a real story. She tackles the difficult topic of a young, fit man becoming disabled after leading a very active lifestyle, and in the end makes the decision of assisted suicide. She doesn't write a miracle at the end. Will doesn't suddenly get better, having him and Louisa walk off into the sunset together. No, Moyes writes with a sense of reality. Not every story needs a happy ending; or, at least what we would label as a happy ending. And even though Louisa showed Will that he really could still live out a full and happy life, he still makes the choice to end it. And even though she wanted nothing to do with it, she was still at his side in the end, because she knew she wasn't going to change his mind. Instead of being angry with him, she was compassionate and loving and was there for him, whether she agreed with his decision or not.

I will admit, the backlash and criticism that this movie has gotten from the disabled community is fair. Yes, people with disabilities can live out a full life and do whatever they set their minds to! We know that the point they are trying to make is that their lives do matter, and that they aren't better off dead. Even with a disability, life is worth living. Yes, Will is a huge hypocrite for telling Louisa that she is living her life wrong and that she needs to get out, see the world, "just live", while he's not even going to try and do that himself. I understand how that can look to the able-bodied world. But do people without disabilities really watch this movie and think, "Wow, that must really suck to have a disability like that. I'd rather die."? Okay, I'm sure there are a few, but I can guarantee the majority of people aren't thinking about that as much as they are thinking about the fact that Will is ending his life so young, and wondering how any doctor or parent could support that decision. My point -- I do understand what the disabled community is saying.

However! (And stay with me here...)

There are thousands of people with disabilities who really do hate the way they have to spend their time here on earth. They hate the fact that they can't do the things everyone else is doing, or things that they used to be able to do before they became disabled. Sports, working, school, whatever it may be. There are those people who suffer and face different trials every single day of their life. There are those people out there who feel like they just can't win the battle they're fighting. And - I can't stress this enough - we can't just disregard the people who feel the same way that Will does, just because of the choice his character makes. Living with a disability can be so taxing and hard on the body, and at some point you start to feel like you aren't even living anymore. You're just... existing.

And when it becomes so difficult to even exist, is life really worth it anymore?

When I got sick, my life was turned upside down. And I know some of you must be thinking, Really...? She's comparing her pain to being completely paralyzed from the neck down?

I know, right?

Yes, all my limbs are there and fully functional. I don't have something like cancer, I don't have paralysis. I can walk and I can run, I can speak, I can hear, I can see (I'm blind as a bat without my glasses, but at least I have those). Fibromyalgia isn't a win or lose disease. There isn't some magical cure (yet) to take my pain away. Four years I have lived in constant, agonizing pain. Four years I have lived with something that I can't get rid of, even for a day, even for just a minute. Four years I have had to hide my pain because "there are so many people out there with it much worse". Four years I have "sucked it up" because you can't see the pain I'm in, therefore how can you trust I'm telling the truth about how much it hurts? Four years I have battled the thoughts of how easy it would be to take the pain away forever if I just took one too many pills. In March of 2014, I was done. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't take the never ending cycle of extreme physical and emotional pain. I couldn't take the hundreds of doctors poking and prodding and asking me the same questions over and over, all coming to same conclusion: I don't know. I couldn't handle one more doctor saying it was "just a migraine". I couldn't take the looks I got at the ER, when my body craved those precious moments that the IV drugs gave me and the pain subsided. I couldn't take the looks on my parents' faces every time I woke them up at two in the morning, screaming for help because I just wanted the pain to stop, knowing there was absolutely nothing they could do. Like Will, I couldn't take the feeling of knowing there was nothing that could be done to "fix" me, that this was something that I was going to have to live with for the rest of my life. I couldn't stand the fact that I was twenty years old and taking the same medication as my grandmother. I couldn't stand the look or sound of disappointment when I told my friends, "I don't really feel good..." for the third time that week. I couldn't stand the thought that the world, and even God, had given up on me. All I wanted in the world at that moment was for the pain to stop.

So, I made it stop.

Did I want to die? Well, Satan told me I did. He told me that I'd be out of pain forever, if I just took those pills. He promised me a life without pain. And I wanted so badly to be out of pain. I wanted the suffering to stop. I wanted the disappointment to stop. I wanted to stop being a burden. I wanted to be the old me. And if I had to continue to exist in this version of Jenae's life, I didn't want to.

But two years later, here I am. Alive. Not just existing, but living. And I mean really living. Looking back now, it's easy to say that me getting sick was a good thing, possibly the best thing that could have happened. I never thought in a million years that those words would ever come out of my mouth. If I had the choice to go back and change a few things, would I do it? If I could somehow prevent myself from getting Mono, therefore preventing my body to become damaged, would I? Part of me would love to live a pain free life! Part of me would love to see how much I could have flourished and blossomed as a healthy, young woman. But if I hadn't gotten sick, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I wouldn't have the close relationship with my parents that I have. I probably wouldn't be at Lubbock Christian, and I wouldn't know the amazing people I've met these past two years! So I guess to answer that question, no, I wouldn't change a thing. Everything happens for a reason, and every action has a reaction. While this Jenae still needs some more work, I know now that life is worth it, and I am worth it! There are some cars you don't trade in just because the paint is fading, and it makes a funny noise when you start the engine, and the seats are torn up a bit on the inside. You spend time repairing those things, because in the end, that car will be worth all the hard work and love you put into it. It'll be worth so much more fixed up than it would have been if you had just given up on it (Dad, if you're reading this, you should be proud I used a car analogy).

Fibromyalgia is a debilitating disease. It can suck all the energy you have left in a matter of minutes, and you're done for the day. I know it may not seem like a disability on the surface. But until you've walked a mile (maybe half a mile... a mile seems too tiring) in the shoes of a person with an invisible illness such as Fibro or MS, etc., you'll just have to trust us that there are some things we just can't do.

My disease isn't a win or lose battle. There is no cure, but it won't kill you. It's just how you handle the situation that determines whether you're going to live or just exist. There are some who simply live with it and manage it, and there are those who radiate joy despite the pain, and use it as a way to share the power of Christ. The thing is, it doesn't matter if you have so much joy it's annoying to those around you, that pain will always be there. People say there are only two things you can count on in life: death and taxes. But for me, there's three: death, taxes, and pain.

Me Before You is a movie that will always be controversial. Should Will have ended his life? Should his parents have let him? Should they have tried to do more to stop him? How could his parents support such a decision?

I don't know what your stance on it is, but keep in mind how Will (or other people like him) really spent his life. Yes, he went on extravagant trips and made some incredible memories with his life after he met Louisa. But we didn't see all the pain he was in. We only saw a glimpse of what he went through with things like having to be lifted out of bed, or not even being able to fix his own pillows. We hear Nathan mention how he stays up all night, listening to Will's screams and cries for help because of the amount of pain he's in. Please hear me when I say that I'm not saying I agree with assisted suicide, but we are all so quick to judge before even thinking about what these people go through behind the curtains. There may be a smile on their face in public, but what do they go through at home? What do their family members go through? How does this disability affect their world and everything in it?

After watching this movie the second time, I felt so compelled to share my story in hopes that somebody, somewhere, will read it and realize that they aren't alone. In my story, this is Me Before, After, and During You, Fibromyalgia. This movie was oddly enough an encouragement to me. It's realistic. It shows the real and dark and tough actions and choices that people with disabilities and pain go through. The night is darkest before the dawn, and the sun will rise. It may take four years, five million doctors visits, three hundred medications, and two extra years in college, but it is worth it in the end.

"Push yourself. Don't settle. Just live well. 

Just live."

Me Before You, Jojo Moyes

If you, or someone you know, ever have thoughts of suicide, please call 1-800-273-8255. Talk to someone. Don't be afraid, or ashamed, or embarrassed. YOU are worth it. Don't ever think your pain or your suffering is bigger than God. God is so much bigger than ANYTHING you will ever face.

Have faith.
Don't just exist.
Live.