Rude Dude (or the self-righteous asshole who needs to learn some manners)

This is simply a blog to let off some steam that has built up on me over this past week.  

I acknowledge that if this is the only bad client I see this week, or more, than its really nothing to complain about in the grand scheme of things.  He never assaulted me in any way, robbed me, threatened me or anything else nasty like.  Being rude is not a crime, I fully acknowledge, but I also see the very slippery slope he’s on and I’m quite aware that its right here where the real problems begin sooner or later.  Thus, as an independent escort, I always reserve the right to profile all my clients and act solely on my gut alone.  

The minute this guy (who I’ll call Steve) strolled through my door, I knew he was going to be a difficult client.  Understand, I’m no idiot, and I will have each client sized up before their ass even touches my living room sofa, have no doubt.  But I’m silent and polite about it all naturally. 

The first offense he committed was strolling right on through my porch area, into my kitchen then headed straight into my den, without being invited past the hallway before proper introductions/greetings were exchanged, and all while still wearing his outdoor shoes.  That’s incredibly rude by any cultures standards.  If a person has any common decency they will remove their shoes before walking through another persons house. Not doing so indicates their low opinion of their host.   While I will openly admit that I presented this single unit private condo as an incall location, and not my own home, its still a well maintained space that I take pride in and should be respected as such.  

His second mistake occurred when he made my request for washing up more awkward then necessary.  As I usually do, I politely directed him towards the bathroom. Saying that he’s welcome to shower before or after, but at least its always nice to wash your face and hands after coming in from outside.  Its a very polite yet direct request to please wash yourself before placing your strange hands inside me. But he did not move a single muscle.  Basically I had to tell him to wash his hands at the very least before being intimate with me.   

As the date progressed we ended up in the bedroom and I asked him if he would like a BJ.  He said he would, of course, but the look on his face was extremely telling when I pulled out the condom. He whined and complained when I told him that I practiced safe oral only.  Wah, wah, wah, cry baby.  I’m not going to change my mind no matter how loud you whine...  

I understand that people will ask questions regarding where their boundaries lie, I have no problem when someone asks me a question to be clear where individual boundaries exist, I actually appreciate that, but once that info is known - any form of pressure, mockery or nagging is totally unacceptable.   I offer CBJ only, if you don’t like it leave, its that simple.  Its rude to pressure a girl to take the condom off, even if its ‘just for oral’. You asked, she said no, end of story.  Don’t be an asshole. That’s offense #3. 

  

But it gets even more offensive when he asked me the following, ‘Where should he expect to cum with this condom in the way?’  I couldn’t believe he just asked that question.  Really?? Oh, I expect you to cum in the condom like everyone else usually does.  But he wasn’t going to be satisfied with that. He wanted a facial.  I straight out refused. I don’t toy with clients at all. I tell them straight up what’s cool and not.  I at least give them that respect.  But he had no respect for the boundaries of prostitutes obviously.  He kept pushing for that fucking facial cum shot despite my clear and straight refusal. 

It wasn’t enough that I invited him into my private condo, offered him a drink, a place to wash, willingly give him a damn fine BJ (if I do say so myself, I am a pro after all) and then fuck him in several different positions of his choosing, all with a smile on my face. He continued to pester me, so I explained how it would ruin my make up and mess up my hair which I really didn’t appreciate - but still he whined like a bitch - so then I said that I wasn’t comfortable risking getting any of his semen in my eyes, ears or nose due to the potential health risks associated.   I was incredibly offended that I had to even say that out loud to his face, when in this day and age we all know the risks associated with certain behaviours.  The fact that he felt he had any right to ask that of me pissed me off big time, especially after I told him no, not once, but several times.  To appease him I took the shot safely on my chest. 

We’re up to number four now - the counts getting too high for my liking.  

Now after all that you’d think he’d let me rinse up first (since I had all his cum on my chest mind you), but instead he insists that he uses the bathroom first because he likes privacy when he pees. Wow. He just reached offense #5. What a jerk. That will be the first and last time I will ever see him.  

Many people think that working as a prostitute is a degrading job, but its not.  Except when a client like him knocks on my door. I take pride in my work and am not ashamed of what I do, and I refuse to be disrespected by anybody.  I’ll do many wild and wonderful things but only if you treat me right and respect my boundaries. I’m a lady and a whore.  That rude dude needs to learn some manners, regardless of who he’s dealing with. 

Don’t worry, Steve is not my typical client.  I’m very appreciative for all the awesome regular clients I have which make my work so very much fun - 99% of the time.  If all the clients were like Steve I wouldn’t be in this industry.  Thankfully, most are really cool guys I actually have a good rapport with.  Not creeps at all.  So stay cool guys.  

Mental Health Updates - my own and the federal systems

Things have been going quite well for me over the past few months. Hence the absence of any blogs recently - nothing much of the crazy sort has been happening in my life and worth writing about. Its nice to be healthy for such an extended period of time come to think about it.  I’m not missing work or losing money due to sick days, which really add up. Nor am I making so many late night drunken dials to friends and family rambling on about some random bullshit. I’m sure they had to be either extremely annoying or hilarious.  But I have to admit I find myself a little bored lately, more than normal anyway. I can’t help but wonder if this minor amount of boredom and this period of sanity are related in some way. It seems logical to me.   To keep myself busy and my mind engaged (I’m not used to a quiet mind - even while sleeping I have so many dreams, many of which I’ve blogged about if they’re important) I’ve been exercising every morning, trying to cook at home a little more and I’m most pleased to say that I also started getting some ideas down on paper for the book I was considering to write (which I mentioned in my previous blog).  

I feel particularly good about the latter. Its nice to have another constructive project to work on besides my main source of income - escorting.  I really do like my escort work though and have no intention to quit in the foreseeable future.  No need to worry boys!  I expect to escort for at least another 2 years if all goes well/as expected. I am lucky to have some fantastic regulars that oft times make me forget I’m actually working.  They’re a significant reason why I choose to keep escorting.  I honestly enjoy seeing them - as long as I’m in a good mood, which is often a challenge for me considering my mood disorder. I swear there are some days that I have to literally bite my tongue when idiots waste my time on the phone over items that I clearly addressed specifically for them (which costs me money btw for each minute, as I have a pay as you go cellphone for work to keep it anonymous for obvious reasons). 

But I have totally gone off topic now.

As I was saying, I’m not getting my hopes up over this literary endeavor, I don’t take disappointment well, especially when there’s emotional attachment to the process and product. I would feel better about myself if I at least tried to make something of it as opposed to doing nothing at all with it.  Worst come to worst, there’s no harm in working on a creative writing assignment. Writing is a wonderful release for me, much akin to blogging.   Writing and working out are the main ways that I, personally, find help me tremendously with my mood swings. Particularly with the excess energy and the racing, unusual thoughts I often experience. But sometimes these natural outlets are not enough and I have to take some meds.  I truly detest most meds prescribed for bipolar disorder, however, clonazepam (aka. klonopin in USA) and most of the benzodiazepines  in general, I find both tolerable and effective. Thankfully there’s something that works for me. 

And when all this fails to satisfy there’s always alcohol to liven the moment. I’ve most recently taken a shining to Skinny Girl brand Margaritas. I’m enjoying a glass at this very moment while I’m writing actually. You know, some fuel for thought. But not too much, gotta stay skinny of course. Its just one of the things I have to deal with constantly.  Although opinions vary on the significance of a woman’s weight, I can say it honestly and as a matter of fact that I make more money and get way more compliments when I’m on the lower side. A flat stomach has a dollar value to men.  Its just the way it is. Thankfully I love working out!

So that’s basically what’s been going on with me lately. I do feel a certain sense of guilt if I let my blog go unattended for too long, but I’m not going to write about empty substance-less crap just to fill up space either. This blog is not for just anything. 

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Oh yes, there is something else I wanted to mention besides my generally good mood these days.  But this news definitely helps my positive outlook.  The federal government of Canada finally developed and released their first ever mental health strategy.  We were the last of the G8 countries to do so btw.  But better late than never. I’ve posted the links below if you’re interested in the details and such:

http://strategy.mentalhealthcommission.ca/the-facts/ 

http://strategy.mentalhealthcommission.ca/pdf/strategy-images-en.pdf 

This is a very encouraging first step, as it is a necessary first step our health care system needs to take in order to address the very real and wide spread issue of mental illness.  I’m not sure what happened for the federal government to make this sensible and compassionate move but its great that they finally did. Yay!   Perhaps a rather perceptive psychiatrist explained to Harper’s conservatives how the economy is adversely affected when people can’t work, or work as well as they are capable of, when they fall mentally ill.  Not to mention how much of a drain a person suffering from mental illness would place on our social and health care systems if they aren’t able to work during certain points in their life.  They could very easily end up living on welfare and going to food banks and the rest of the sad sob story heard over and over. But its not always like that thankfully (please don’t interpret those latter statements as belittling or ignorant, but more so provocative I suppose). 

What I’m most interested in is their approach towards prevention and early intervention.  This is an issue that is very close to my heart, and for treating bipolar disorder in particular.  While its unlikely that bipolar disorder can be prevented, its severity and life impact can surely be reduced if caught early and treated/managed.  My bipolar disorder wasn’t diagnosed until I was in my late twenties and a decade of damage had already been done to my relationships, school, career and reputation.  All of which may have been potentially mitigated if I only knew what was wrong with me and episodes nipped in the proverbial bud. 

The one nice thing about this mental illness is that as nasty as it can get, it almost always gives you a heads up before it hits.  Alarms, red flags, warning signals of all kinds go off even in the early stages of each episode. These signs (usually behavioural in nature) can be recognized IF you know what to look for, but sadly most people don’t know what these warning signs are and all too often the episode progresses to a level that is destructive, severe and damaging. But this doesn’t always have to happen - attacks can be nipped in the bud if given early intervention.  I know this from experience. Many experiences. 

I was 15-16 yrs old when my illness reared its ugly head for the first time.  I attempted suicide for the first time on my sixteenth birthday.  Not so sweet for me.  Soon afterwards I started shoplifting (not because I needed to, but perhaps it was more about the challenge or the risk I suppose, so often seen in mania), naturally the drinking and drugs and promiscuity all followed suit. This is text book bipolar behaviour - a low depressive state which swung eventually to mania, this was my first episode .  All the warning signs were there but nobody saw the elephant in the room for what it really was. The suicide attempt, brushes with the law and substance abuse were all dismissed as the unfortunate result of a teenager coming from a broken home.  Its like we all slept through the fire alarm going off right in our own home. 

It wasn’t until my next really nasty episode several years later - when I dropped out of grad school and attempted suicide for the second time (among other things) - that I was initially diagnosed with clinical depression then more accurately as bipolar when my shrink eventually recognized my manic behaviour for what it really was.  A mental illness and not just a troublemaking wild moody youngster who should know better.  That psychiatrist, let me call him Eddie, changed my life and in all honesty probably saved it too. I’m grateful for his help.  (Its too bad that we’re in different cities now.  I’ve struggled constantly in my search for decent medical care - both at the GP and emergency levels.  Its incredible how many doctors lack compassion and competency. On a side note, I’ve got a whole blog planned on this topic, so stay tuned for that one.  Its gonna be a real doozy, let me tell you that much.)

Looking back at my life thus far, its difficult for me admit that I’ve attempted suicide twice, often abuse drugs/alcohol, dropped out of grad school and works in the sex trade industry.  Not exactly where anybody expected me to be considering I was always an honours student with good self-esteem and a loving mother. But here I am.  

I can’t honestly claim that all my life problems were directly caused by my mental illness, but I do feel its fair to believe that I would most likely have my masters degree and not be working as an escort if my mental illness were recognized and treated earlier in my life.  It shouldn’t take a decade to diagnose disease.  

I don’t blame anyone in particular, but the overall demons of stigma and ignorance. After 10 longer years, my illness could no longer be ignored, waved off, excused, swept under the rug, otherwise denied.     

I firmly believe that I would have benefitted greatly from early intervention.  I’m not ashamed of who I am, or what I do, but I feel like I was supposed to do other greater things in life that my mental illness prevented me from realizing.  

Hence, the moral of the story (er, blog), is that I felt both happy and hopeful when our great country finally released a (sorely needed/overdue) mental health strategy.  And its my hope that it will reduce both stigma and ignorance, thus prevent/reduce other young people from enduring what I have, so unnecessarily. 

And if compassion for the mentally ill and their families isn’t enough to persuade certain people, perhaps the money will.  Its undeniable that when the mentally ill are cared for appropriately, they will be less of a burden on our: 1) health care system, 2) legal/justice system (e.g. preventative crimes committed when delusional/psychotic/anti-social), 3) social assistance programs, 4) general productivity (e.g. sick days, fewer working years, taxes lost to society, etc.) and, 5) suicides committed (which the majority of all Canadians strongly oppose, regardless for their reason why).   

There is so much I could write concerning stigma, both from personal experiences and what I’ve viewed from media and legal aspects, that I could write for ages. But I should post now before I become flustered and stash this away for later... 

Thanks to all my followers for reading, 

~BSW




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P.S. A brief but pertinent blog edit:
re. diagnosis


Less than a day has passed since I've posted this blog, yet I feel the need to made an addition already.  I suppose I never truly feel that any of my blogs are completely and wholly done when I post them. Rather I feel they have reached a point of maturity where they are worthy of being read by others.  I've sat on some blogs for weeks on end. Things like - inspiration, confidence, motivation and positive attitude are not always with me when I need them.  Oh well. That's just me. Alas I digress on this edit...yes, how typical...


Surfing the net this evening, I came across an interesting piece of info regarding the topic of 'diagnosis' that would have nicely supported my discussion and personal opinion on the topic. 


I mentioned that it took 10 yrs for me to be properly diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and finally given the opportunity to take back a level of control over my own life.    Since very few people openly discuss this sort of thing at the water-cooler or in the locker-room, I had no idea if this was normal for other bipolars.   (Its not like asking others girls when they had their first kiss or lost their virginity during a truth or dare slumber party game!).


So when I found this fact on the website for UBC's Mood Disorder Centre I felt a little more re-assured than usual:
"patients with bipolar disorder are often undiagnosed, misdiagnosed, untreated, or under-treated and suffer for an average of 10 years with symptoms before receiving the correct diagnosis and treatment. This delay has been shown to adversely affect patient treatment and recovery" Read more at: http://www.publicaffairs.ubc.ca/media/releases/2004/mr-04-049.html  

While I don't like thinking about myself as a statistic, I do however, appreciate the value it holds when it (and by 'it' I mean university level psychiatric researchers with published works) has my back for once. 


Anyways, the point of this blog edit was to clarify that many people suffer needlessly for an average of 10 yrs before getting the help they need.  And scientists agree with me too. 


Doesn't that feel wrong to you?