My dog’s name is Dog.

He came with the name and it seems to be working for him. He is a mutt, about 40 pounds, orange with a little white on his chest and different color toenails. One ear sticks straight out, like Yoda, and the other flops over.

Dog is my best friend. I have human friends but I am not as comfortable with them as I am with Dog. I am not a hermit or wallflower. I am a good listener and friend. I am great at parties – telling stories and listening. People say I am a nice person and funny. For the most part, with the exception of a couple of people, I would rather be alone with Dog than with you. I know that sounds horrible, but it’s true.

There was an article about me in the New York Times yesterday. It’s on the front page of the Business section: Just Manic Enough: Seeking the Perfect Entrepreneur.

I am not actually mentioned in the article. It’s about a brilliant young entrepreneur named Seth Priesbatsch. But it might as well be about me and my hypomania.

” “Elevated” hardly describes this guy. To keep the pace of his thoughts and conversations at manageable levels, he runs on a track every morning until he literally collapses. He can work 96 hours in a row. He plans to live in his office…He does not socialize. He no longer reads books, nor does he watch TV or movies. He works from 8 am until 10 pm, seven days a week.”

Seth, I love you, man!

It’s Wednesday. Time to fill my weekly pill dispenser. I open a drawer that holds three brown prescription bottles filled with three months worth of my medications.

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I drop pills into each compartment and then snap them shut. I tuck my hot-pink pill dispenser beside the coffee maker on my kitchen counter – out of plain sight but not to be missed when I pour the day’s first cup of coffee.

Last week I went to my first 12-step meeting for the “dually-blessed” – those of us who have alcoholism AND another mental illness (Yes, Virginia, alcoholism REALLY IS A MENTAL ILLNESS. The American Medical Association said so in 1957.)

It was the first time in a long time that I felt free to talk about ALL my mental illnesses – alcoholism and bipolar II (hypomania) without someone shooting me an evil look. If you think the stigma of mental illness is strong “out there” you should see it in the recovery community.

Every time I write about this I hear from dual-diagnosed recovered alcoholics who live in an enlightened community – such as Boston – who insist this discrimination does not exist. But let me tell you, it is real. The gist is this: you are not truly clean and sober if you take any “mind altering” medications – such as anti-depressants, mood stabilizers or anti-psychotics.

Other recovered alcoholics take little jabs at us.

“I never chewed my beer.”

“I have managed to stay sober without the big bottle or little bottle.”

“…and I have not taken any mood altering substances in my xx years of sobriety.”

My response: “Well, good for you.”  But in my head I am thinking, “Maybe you should have.”

There persists – despite decades of peer-reviewed research, anecdotal proof and the admission of LSD use by AA founder Bill Wilson – ignorance in the recovery community about the use of antidepressants and mood stabilizers. They backhand us with their belief that we are not clean and sober because we take psychotropic medications for other mental illnesses.

I have nothing against oily pelicans or dead turtles. My heart breaks for them. I wince when I see their photos and I applaud the remarkable rescuers who care for and clean them.

We all want to run out and by a bottle of Dawn and start washing birds. But can we please pay as much attention to the humans devastated by the BP oil spill disaster? What have we done to help the people along the gulf? 

I still get manic but it’s a kinder, gentler mania.

“Whaddya have goin’ this weekend?” a friend asked during a phone call last Friday.

“Linda is turning 50 so I’m going to her party on Saturday night. Other than that, nothing,” I told him. “I’m sure I will find something.”

Oh, yeah.  Somehow – despite the mood stabilizer I take (religiously) – Mr. Mania snuck into my bed and we woke up together on Saturday morning with a spectacular To-Do List.

I am going to start keeping track of local crime stories that involve someone with a mental illness. Is it me or am I just hyper-aware of any mention of mental illness in a crime story? It’s been driving me crazy lately. Seems more and more stories are mentioning the mental illness of the perp or victim of a crime. Usually it is thrown in at the end of a story … but it IS there.

Here is what I mean: Today — exactly one year after Tina Lurie vanished — local police detectives held a press conference. They said Lurie’s boyfriend — an ex-con who served time for extortion, drug sales and purchase, trafficking in stolen property, burglary and robbery — is a “person of interest.”

Near the end of the story we also learn this: “Police said Tina suffers from bipolar disorder and did not have her medication with her when she left home. She also had a history of alcohol abuse.”