the little panini that could

(june writing habits)

I’m an over sharer, an anxious mess, an ex publishing professional, a screenwriter, short story writer, personal essayist and a novelist (The Lamb & more soon).

This is where I come to pass and receive nervous notes and be transparent about my writing and my wobbles. It’s part diary, part scrap book, but mostly a collection of extremely nervous notes scribbled down.

I don’t have a paywall (bar one handwritten letter I write to paid subscribers every year), but if you’d like to support me, there’s a paid subscription option with a couple of small perks.

Sometimes, getting your shit together means taking a bad day, and trying your absolute best to make it a day worth remembering.

Midway through June, I had a bad day. After struggling to fall asleep the night before, I had a 2am panic attack, two hours of sleep, and a sleep score of 32/100 (very low). As the summer light came in through the window, I was exhausted and depressed, and the sort of queasy that can only come from being over thirty and not having a full nights sleep.

I spent the morning catatonic, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling endlessly, hoping that it would swallow me up so I didn’t have to think. Period pains at a high, I spent a good portion of the day trying not to faint, vomiting and taking painkillers because the cramps were spreading to my thighs. After a big embrace from my heated blanket (and some codeine), I pushed myself and went for a small walk.

But it wasn’t the walk that turned it around for me.

No, it was a humble ham and cheese panini from the beach grill down by the water. That one beautiful, greasy, delicious panini gave me my strength back. It was cooked just right. Everything was crispy. The cheese and ham were a little smoky. It was salty, but not too much. And the bread had a real nice crunch with that perfect softness beneath. From the moment I bit into it, even though it was tipping it down with rain and everything smelled like rotten seaweed and damp, the little panini that could put the sparkle back in my day.

I finished every bite and came home. Started small. I brushed my teeth and got dressed. Drank a glass of water. Put H20 Just Add Water on the TV. Printed off the pages I needed to edit for the day and flicked the lid off a new pen. I dove in and scribbled until my palms cramped.

Somehow, hours passed. And I didn’t even notice.

Around 6pm, I finished my pages but wasn’t quite ready to type it all up, so I did a month’s worth of backlog finance admin. Typed up my notes after a nice dinner. Watched the latest drop of Vox Machina. Found myself delighted at the heist themed episode (if you know me well, you know heists are my weakness. I love them). Laughed so hard my heart felt lighter.

I hadn’t foreseen that I would get anything done that day, let alone want to remember it.

All because of one greasy little panini.

Blessed be that panini.

June has been all about overcoming, overwhelm and finding my seaworthiness as a writer. Certainty and calm are not something that have ever come naturally to me. I’m never certain of anything, I never trust my gut and I worry endlessly about being misunderstood or misinterpreted – which feels particularly painful while you’re in the seaweeds of editing a deeply emotional new novel you’re scared to show people or tell people about.

This is what I know: when I am anxious, I find myself lying in state (a lot). Insomnia sets in as I watch the clock turn from 11pm to 4am, mornings brought in by tears and numbness. I find myself unable to move. I find myself afraid. Constantly. I’ll later swallow the time by swaddling myself in a heated blanket and scrolling until the pain numbs. And it does numb, at least for a little bit. The worrying softens. But I’ve realised a better antidote to life is holding feelings instead of numbing them. We become much better, and braver writers that way (Thank you panini).

Outside of all that worry and writing, here’s what I did in June:

• Catan board game night with friends.

• Art gallery crawl in Newcastle - found a new favourite painting.

• Went to watch Drop Out Live and saw several of my favourite comedians. Cheered until my lungs hurt. Started a standing ovation.

• So many walkies.

• Proper grown up meals made from scratch.

• Finding a book I fell in love with (and one I didn’t).

• Ignored emails I probably shouldn’t have ignored. Whoops.

• Saw old friends.

• Won an award.

• Went to my local for steak night. Chips and peppercorn sauce is my favourite combo.

• Gave many, many cuddles to my cat, Figgy.

• Had a really fucking good panini.