Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

The Largest

I really don’t want to admit this to myself. So I’m going to write it here so I can’t escape this truth. I currently weigh the most I have ever weighed. At this moment I weigh in at 207lbs/93.89kg. That’s more than when I was pregnant with either of my kids. Which sounds bad, I know, but I was sick for most of both pregnancies, so they don’t really count. I actually lost weight with my second one. And I was back to my pre-baby weight before I even left the hospital either time. It sounds nice, but it was actually horrible.

Anyway, the concern is that I’m overweight now.

A lot of it is residual stress. The old job got me about twenty of these pounds in the last year. Then lack of good sleep, stress with money, and lack of sex aren’t helping either. But more than that, I’m just not taking good care of myself. I’m not eating well. And my exercise regimes have disappeared. My flexibility and endurance have worsened as well. I’m just turning into a blob.

And that’s just not good enough.

I mean, how can I really enjoy sex if I’m only focusing on how unhappy my body makes me? And, in a much less selfish way, I have two kids to watch grow up. I have to get back into shape and start making better food choices. I bought my wonder woman water bottle and have been trying to drink more water to stay hydrated (ignore the fact that I left it at home yesterday). But, obviously water isn’t enough on it’s own.

Fern (@Ferns_) is doing an #fwocrew workout tracking week this week. My goal is three. And I’ve only got until Sunday to fit them in. It sounds easy, and it probably should be, but I have a feeling it’s going to be tough to set aside the time. Usually I have some time in the mornings. The boys are often up though, and constantly in need of something (milk, apple, cartoons). It’s difficult to get into a good rhythm when you are constantly being interrupted.

So I have a lot of mini-goals as I try to tackle this weight. But until I can get the water and exercise into a more consistent pattern I don’t want to add too much more. Eventually I want to get back to calorie counting and maybe look at a step counter. Since my last one broke a replacement hasn’t been in the cards. That may end up on the Christmas list.

I just can’t keep this slow creep upwards in weight. My clothes are getting a bit too tight for comfort and my lack of energy is really getting to me. And, as much as I would love to blame my husband’s low sex drive solely on him; it’s not like I’ve been making a good effort either. I don’t expect that losing twenty pounds will suddenly make him want to sleep with me again. But taking care of myself is my best shot to stay in a good place for him.

The next few months will be a bit rough. But I need to do this for me as much as for my family, Dom, lover, and all those who care about me. I deserve to be healthy; even if I have to be my own worst enemy to do it.*

*There is nothing wrong with being healthy. I don’t mean to make it sound like it’s some great hardship. I just have an unnatural love of mayonnaise, ranch dressing, and fried foods. It’s more learning how to deny myself, which, as a self-spoiled little, it no easy task.

An uncollared submissive struggling with depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm

So much has changed in the last few months I felt like the blog needed a bit of a re-working. The title will stay ‘Chasing Me, Chasing You’. I still feel like that most of the time. But, the subtitle is now a bit more accurate and my Rules and Contracts pages are gone. Not sure if my posts will change much, but I am hoping to start writing more. I guess I am hoping I can try and feel more authentic when I write.

I always felt like I couldn’t express how hard this roller-coaster has been. Not sure if I was more worried about actually admitting it to myself or the fear of my husband reading it. I don’t want him to be hurt, but that doesn’t make my hurt go away. But, he admitted that he doesn’t read this anymore. It was painful to hear that, but I’ve decided to take it as a positive and use this space to write what I really feel. No more sugar coating or holding back.

So, fair warning, you may have to put up with a certain amount of whinging. I’m hoping I can also write about all the kink fantasies and poly experiences that are running around in my brain. Maybe if I can release those feelings here I can deal with my vanilla life better. And, having a place to post all the lovely photos of when Jack and I do manage to get together is always nice.

A few weeks ago I thought I was going to need to walk away from writing in general and the blog all together. I mean, the website is called ‘collared mom’. With only half of that still being true I could not bear to even think about posting anything. Not writing has hurt. And it didn’t make sense to me to add to my pain. Reading of those who attended Eroticon this year just reminded me how much I want to be part of this community. I will start saving to attend next year, as I need to do this for me.

Thank you all for your continued support and I hope those of you who keep reading aren’t disappointed.


Version 2

I asked for a pair of running shoes for Christmas. My mom bought them. She said she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to purchase such small shoes. I wear size 7.5 (she doesn’t read this, but I still won’t say how big her feet are). I guess it could be called a New Year’s resolution, even though I’ve been trying to exercise and lose weight for months now. But I laced these up on January 1st and had a good run.

I was actually surprised how good I felt. With the holidays and all the work on the house my work out routine has been anything but consistent. Ok, let’s be honest, it’s been completely destroyed. But, as we move toward our literal move I would like to get it re-established so it doesn’t fall apart again. So I have been happy that these first few days have gone well. Three days and three work outs. I am hoping to get back to my cross country days. I run for an hour and feel pretty good, but I need to increase the intensity and the distance though to really make strides on the weight loss.

Sir is taking more of a supportive role as far as my exercise is concerned. Since we’ve been home the last few days he’s been helping to make sure I have time to work out. But this isn’t really something he cares to control. He wants me to be healthy, but it’s my responsibility to get there. In general he likes my body the way it is, stretch marks, tummy roll and all. But there is a health factor to being overweight, so he understands my goal.

Last year I struggled with that reality. I think I expected him to push me and regulate my progress. But out of work, the kids, and the rest of me, worrying about if I worked up a sweat without him isn’t really on the top of his list. He expects me to handle this. I think that’s the largest part of submission that I wasn’t prepared for. Submission is partly about taking care of your own shit. Keeping things together and not bothering him about every little problem. He knows that I am strong, even when I forget. And submission isn’t about pestering him every five minutes. It’s about taking care of the house, kids, and parts of me to make his day to day easier.

One of the big steps in 2016 is to make sure I remember my responsibilities as his sub. So running and managing my health is my challenge. I usually avoid everything from doctor’s appointments to eating right. But he wants me healthy, so in that sense I am following his orders. He just can’t micromanage this, so he trusts me to handle it.

So I’ll run and keep pushing myself. Maybe once I start losing some weight I will buy myself a new outfit to show Sir how much I want to look good for him. I know he will see the true submission in that. And it’s a win/win as I get to look sexy and he gets to see me in something tight and probably see-through.

Healthy Start

I have been talking to Sir about getting healthy for awhile. My mother has been dieting and adding exercise to her life for the last year. She has lost over 50 lbs. (even with all the chips and pints in England). She looks amazing. The thinest and most energetic I’ve ever seen her. Since they got home last week it’s been a huge motivator in getting me thinking about changes.

Also, one of my cousin’s friends passed away suddenly last December. He had a heart attack. He was in his mid-thirties. I know he wasn’t taking care of himself. He drank a lot, smoked a lot, more than dabbled in drugs. But even though I don’t live in those sorts of extremes, it was still a wake up call. My kids need a mom who is going to be around for a lot longer than that. And, now that Sir and I have found ourselves in this new D/s dynamic, I intend to enjoy it for as long as possible.

I will admit, since our sex life has ramped up there is a lot more naked me time. And, since Baby 2.0, my body doesn’t resemble the tiny dancer frame I once had. It’s hard to feel sexy when buying XL underwear. Sir thinks my stretch marks from the kids have character; I think he’s just jealous that they have left larger, more permanent marks on me than he has. Even so, losing some significant weight would help me feel sexier for him. I need to increase my activity and lower my caloric intake. Between keeping up with the kids and having enough energy at the end of the day to preform my slave duties for Sir, coffee isn’t going to get the job done.

It’s hard when you are an emotional eater. When I get upset or stressed, I just want junk. Especially junk that I don’t have to cook. I’ve gotten better, and working on my depression has helped. But I also need to work to correct the damage that has already been done.

So, over the weekend Sir took me out and bought me a fitness tracker. Looking through all the options, we settled on the Jawbone U2, but there are several choices depending on what features you want. Sir has been really supportive. He’s never called me fat, or complained about my weight changing with the depression or the kids. Every time that I have tried to start a work out or a diet, he has been right behind me. This will be no different, except it will be successful.

He’s going to work with me to set goals and incorporate them into my tasks and rules. This tracker has motivation tips too. Including yelling at me right now because I’ve been sitting at my desk too long. Great, now I have a machine telling me what to do too.

Maybe I didn’t think this through.

Earning my stripes

It’s happened. I mean, I thought it would happen, I knew it would happen eventually, but color me surprised that it actually did. I did what he told me to. He told me to take meds, I didn’t really want to, but I did anyway. I didn’t want to seem like I was not listening.

I had a headache this morning. But it wasn’t my usual behind the eye pounding. I slept (or didn’t sleep as the case may be) awfully and had this horrible shooting pain down the back of my left ear. It was quite the morning pre-coffee. But, after I got some oatmeal, my head returned to normal. However, I received this text after Sir got to work:

Sir: Did you take meds?

me:  the headache went away after I got some food so I didn’t need meds

Sir:  A headache in the back of your head is not the sort of thing that is caused by hunger. It is probably caused by stress and muscle tightening throughout your back. Ibuprofen is a mild muscle relaxant and will help the tendons and sinew in your spine to relax so that, if you do get tense again, you will have a better chance of avoiding a repeat headache. I told you twice now to take meds and you haven’t done it. This is verging on being bratty and I don’t appreciate it. Take two ibuprofen. Now.

My first reaction was to whine. Internally, of course, but I did. Why do I have to take meds when I don’t have a headache anymore? I rationalized my choice. And then I thought about it. I thought about being bratty, which I really don’t want to be. I thought about him being disappointed in me. I pushed it aside. I moved the laundry and got the mail. I was getting more coffee and an instant later I found myself opening the bottle of ibuprofen.

Two pills and a glass of water later I realized what had happened. I had submitted. When I didn’t really want to, and I wasn’t promised sexual gratification. It was amazing. Somehow freeing and calming. And surprisingly, a real turn on.

So I have started my weekend earning my ‘even when I didn’t think I wanted to’ badge. I’ll put it between my anal sex badge and my ‘quiet orgasm with the kids in the next room’ badge. Go me!