Fighting Weight Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Epilogue

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Quotes

  Dear Reader

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Fighting Weight

  by

  Gillian Jones

  Copyright © 2018 Gillian Jones

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the US Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Enquiries please email [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Gillian Jones is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book.

  First eBook edition: 2018

  Edited by Quoth the Raven Writing Co.

  Cover design ©: Book Covers by Ashbee Designs

  Formatting by Paul Salvette

  About the Book

  We all have that voice inside our heads.

  The one that speaks to us incessantly. That voice we trust to make the right decisions, to keep us on a positive path, even when others try to bring us down.

  But what happens when that voice changes?

  When it’s no longer a voice of reason, a voice of comfort giving us a pep talk when we need one?

  What happens when that inner voice turns into a bully?

  You’re fat.

  Don’t you dare eat that.

  You’ll never be as pretty as her.

  You’ll never be as good as them.

  You’re lazy. You’re stupid.

  You are disgusting.

  You. Are. Nothing.

  What happens when that inner voice makes your body take its side?

  Binge.

  Purge.

  Binge

  Purge.

  And what happens when the bully starts to win?

  If your name is Alina Cassidy, then you fight like hell.

  Dedication

  For Donna

  Thank you for inspiring this story. Thank you for fighting your “bully”.

  Most of all, I’m so glad you’re winning.

  And for everyone else who fights a bully of her or his own, this one’s for you.

  “It’s calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.”

  —“Sullen Girl”, Fiona Apple

  “I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”

  —Vincent van Gogh

  “You gotta swim for the nights that won’t end. Swim for your family, your lovers, your sisters, your brothers, your friends.”

  —“Swim”, Jack’s Mannequin

  Dear Reader,

  Fighting Weight was inspired by a beautiful woman whose fight is real, and unfortunately one that is shared with many women, men, and teens today. Reading Donna’s Facebook posts and talking to her about her fight as a person suffering with bulimia and learning about the battle she faces everyday—working to stay in recovery to keep her own bully at bay—triggered something inside me. I found myself deeply inspired.

  I wanted to write a story for her, one Donna could be proud of, a story that would tell her how proud I am to call her a friend, and remind her how brave and truly awe-inspiring she is, even if sometimes she might not realize it. And I wanted to write a story for everyone who fights a similar battle, to say, “you are not alone”, and “hey, you can beat this.”

  Finally, I wanted to shed light on an issue prevalent within our society today. One I feel we need to talk about and address, because mental illness is real and too many suffer in silence. The more we talk about it, educate ourselves, and acknowledge it, the faster we can work to eliminate the stigma associated with mental health issues and I hope people will therefore feel encouraged to seek the support they need.

  As with Tainted by Love, I did a lot of research, asked many, many questions. I shed tears, and learned a lot about a mindset that is so devastatingly sad. That being said, please note there are no set rules for how one’s eating disorder might look, and its impact can differ from one person to the next, and may be different than your own. I learned, as well, that music can play a big part in the lives of those who are affected by bulimia and with that, Sicken Union and Happenstance came to be big parts of this story. I hope you’ll listen to the Spotify soundtrack, as I feel it will enhance the book’s journey.

  Regarding the mental health aspects and health-related issues, I am not a psychiatrist or physician. I did my best with my research and was as truthful and accurate about what life with an eating disorder is like as I possibly could be, but I ask as you read Fighting Weight to please remember that there is an element of storytelling overlying the facts presented in the novel—as this is a work of fiction—and allow for that.

  This book may contain sensitive subject matter for some.

  Thank you for reading!

  Gillian

  Xox

  Playlist

  (available on Spotify)

  Issues – Julia Michaels

  Four Leaf Clover – Christian Hudson

  Don’t Leave – Snakehips, MØ

  Closure – Hayley Warner

  Overjoyed – Bastille

  Believer – Imagine Dragons

  Weight – Crywolf

  My Demons – Starset

  From The Inside – Linkin Park

  Heavy (feat. Kiiara) – Linkin Park, Kiiara

  Perfect – Hedley

  Love Again – Hedley

  Sorry – Nothing But Thieves

  Hold Me – R3HAB

  Learn To Let Go – Kesha

  Miracle Of Love – Jamie Lawson

  Send the Pain Below – Chevelle

  Praying – Kesha

  There for You – Martin Garrix, Troye Sivan

  i can’t breathe – Bea Miller

  Gasoline – Halsey

  Drown – Bring Me The Horizon

  Yellow Love – Citizen

  I Found – Amber Run

  I’ll Be Good – Jaymes Young

  Sullen Girl – Fiona Apple

  Hold Me Down – Halsey

  Carry On – fun.<
br />
  Last Hope – Paramore

  Swim – Jack’s Mannequin

  Quicksand – Tom Chaplin

  Keeping Your Head Up – Don Diablo Remix [Radio Edit] – Birdy, Don Diablo

  Just A Thought – Gnarls Barkley

  Half – Pvris

  Wonder (feat. The Kite String Tangle) – Adventure Club, The Kite String Tangle

  He Like That – Fifth Harmony

  Silence – Marshmello, Khalid

  Would You Ever – Skrillex, Poo Bear

  Sabotage – Beastie Boys

  What I Got – Sublime

  Don’t Look Back In Anger – Remastered – Oasis

  Disarm – The Smashing Pumpkins

  Far Behind – Candlebox

  Machinehead – Bush

  A Letter To Elise – The Cure

  Save Yourself – Stabbing Westward

  Song #3 – Stone Sour

  Through Glass – Stone Sour

  Iris – The Goo Goo Dolls

  This Is Me – Keala Settle, The Greatest Showman Ensemble

  I’d Rather See Your Star Explode – Slaves

  Long Time Running – The Tragically Hip

  Dream Catch Me – Newton Faulkner

  Patience Is The Virtue – Slaves

  Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole – Martha Wainwright

  Inner Demons – Julia Brennan

  Shake the Disease – Depeche Mode

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Quotes

  Dear Reader

  Playlist

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Epilogue

  More Information on Eating Disorders

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Follow Me Here

  Books By Gillian Jones

  Prologue

  Alina

  “You’re an asshole, Danny. You’re always putting them first! What about me? What about me? It’s always ‘the kids this’ and ‘the kids that’. ‘I think they’d like this’, or ‘we should buy them that’.” My mom’s voice travels up the stairs and into my room, waking me with a start as she yells at my dad.

  “Dar, shh…you’re going to wake the kids. Keep your voice down. Maybe put the wine down, too, while you’re at it?” my dad pleads, trying his best to diffuse the situation.

  The situation known as my mother.

  My obviously drunk mother—for the third time this week—Darlene Cassidy. Once a nurse-by-day/alcoholic-by-night, now a full-time alcoholic.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now? The kids? Fuck the kids, Danny. That’s all it’s ever about with you, isn’t it?” she accuses again, her words noticeably slurred. “Want to know something, Daaani-elll?” she taunts, stretching out his name, her voice taking on a mocking tone. “I could give a fuck about those kids. I hate them,” my mom says loudly. It’s a punch to the gut that steals my breath.

  She’s my mom, how can she say that? I wonder, as tears start rolling down my cheeks. She wasn’t always like this.

  There was a time when Lucky and I went to bed with kisses on our foreheads, and mom’s whispered words telling us how much she loved us. I have so many good memories of the way she used to be, of a time when we were happy. Memories of her letting me win at Crazy Eights and Monopoly, nights she’d sit at the kitchen table helping me with my homework.

  It wasn’t always like this.

  Darlene Cassidy used to be the mom everyone wanted: loving, caring, funny, and kind. Mom used to work, she had been an amazing nurse and caregiver. She used to bathe and dress and actually leave the house. Our home used to be filled with laughter and love. Now it’s filled with empty bottles, bad moods, hatred, fighting, and what I’d come to realize was neglect towards my brother and me. Now she’s lost, and my memories are slowly being tainted and replaced with images of nights like tonight. She’s become somebody that we used to know.

  Suddenly, there’s a sound of shattering glass, making me jump in my bed as I have more nights than not over the last six months, months where her drinking has become more frequent.

  “Darlene. That’s enough. They’ll hear you,” my dad tries again, placating, his voice firmer but still a little unsure.

  My poor father, I think. He tries, working everyday to keep us afloat since mom can’t now. Daniel Cassidy is carrying the burden alone, trying to be both the mother and father we need as well as the Mom Wrangler, and it’s starting to wear on him. I picture his face. He’s starting to look older, tired, his once bright blue eyes a little dimmed, even when he’s trying to give us attention.

  “Like I give a fuck. Let ’em hear. Let that stupid asshole hear how he’s a good for nothing piece of shit, just like his father. Let Alina know that she’s nothing but an ugly little whore. I see the way you look at my husband, bitch!” she screams up the stairs. I picture her swaying in our lime green kitchen, sloppily holding her wine glass, head tilting up to be sure I’ll hear her. “I see—” she starts to continue, her voice sounding closer, but my father snaps, cutting her off.

  “Darlene, shut the fuck up, right now!”

  “You shut the fuck up! Don’t you ever tell me to shut up. I’ll shoot you in the fucking face. And don’t you think for a second that I won’t.”

  Does my mom have a gun?

  “Just calm down, Dar. You’re going to scare them. You’re scaring me,” Dad says. My heart thumps wildly in my chest at my mom’s words.

  There’s a loud bang as the door to my bedroom flies open. Fear like I’ve never known rattles my body as I anticipate my mother charging in.

  Instead, it’s the familiar silhouette of my 15-year-old brother, Lucky—older than me by five years—who meets my eyes instead.

  “Let’s go to the treehouse, Alina,” he whispers, “and I’ll try to show you the new constellation we learned about in school today.” He comes in and sits gently beside me on my bed. He clamps a hand on my shaking shoulder. “Here, put this on first. It’s chilly outside.” He passes me my fluffy pink housecoat.

  Lucky has been taking me out to the treehouse and teaching me about the stars more and more often over the last six months.

  He thinks I’m too young to realize it, but I know
it’s so I don’t have to listen to the fighting. So I don’t hear, or risk seeing, my father standing with his arms by his sides in surrender, allowing the woman he has loved more than life to hit him, punch him, and say the most hurtful things, the most hateful of words.

  Lucky has always taught me that a man should never hit a woman. Yet, sometimes, when I see Daddy the next day with ice over his eye, or limping around the house after a night when Lucky and I have fallen asleep in the treehouse, I would wish that stupid rule didn’t exist. I know it’s terrible to think, but I want my daddy to stand up to my mother. I want him to make the pain and hurt stop, for himself and for the rest of us. I want him to fix my family, to make our mom love us like a mother should.

  “Get the fuck off me, Danny! I’ll call the cops,” my mom screams, making me bolt off the bed, ready to go see Lucky’s stars, because deep down I know the argument tonight is a particularly bad one.

  “Lucky, is Daddy gonna be okay?” I whisper, letting out quiet sobs because I can’t keep them in any longer.

  “Come on, Alina. Let’s go find the beautiful. The stars are waiting for us,” he says, wiping my cheek and pulling me into a hug before quietly leading us down the hall, through my parents’ room, and out to the balcony, where a staircase descends into the backyard. The sounds of a riot ring out behind us.

  “Lucky?” I ask, once we’re crouched in safety on the floor of the treehouse my father had built in the large oak tree.

  “Yeah, Squirt?” he says, adjusting the lens of the telescope Daddy had snuck inside for us a few weeks ago.

  “Why does Mommy hate us? Is it really ’cause I’m a whore?” I hiccup, repeating the word I’m not so sure I even understand, or if I want to.

  “You are not a whore, Alina. That’s a bad word. Never say that about yourself. You’re kind, smart, and beautiful. You hear me? Don’t listen to that woman. She isn’t our mother anymore,” he says, pulling me into a hug as we curl up together on the floor, weeping and wishing on the stars above that by morning life will go on, that things will get better…

  Unfortunately, nights like this became a regular occurrence. Thanks to Lucky, I was mercifully distracted by Pegasus, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, and a bunch of other galactic wonders. Yet my mind was still always reeling, my heart sinking, my mind replaying my mother’s words over and over, despite me willing myself not to. “I wish I’d never had you, Alina Jayne Cassidy!”