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!”
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