#forsomeoneelse

When you have a spare moment go and check out my most recent project 

‘for someone else’ 

a project looking at what carers do outside of their caring role and how important that time is to them. The project hopes to provoke others to think about what they do within the space of an hour and then what that hour of time means to a carer. Alongside this 'for someone else' explores their struggles told by the carers themselves.

www.forsomeoneelse.co.uk

The photograph above is Francesca and here is her story:

"The easiest part is cleaning his bum, washing him, making sure he's eaten"

Francesca cares for her husband and has been for the last few years. Francesca's husband suffers with arthritis and has become very weak and can no longer go up and down the stairs so sits and sleeps in his chair.

Francesca is still able to go out in the afternoon when her husband goes to sleep. In this time she chooses to go to art classes, has piano lessons and goes and meets her sister in town every Friday.

Even though she can still go out and have a little time to herself, Francesca finds it hard to not think about her husband and finds the worry the hardest part of being a carer.

Have you forgotten about me already? Has your pain masked every memory of me? All I want to do is sit an explain all these feelings that are piling up like a train wreck in my head. I have so much that I want to say but you need to have an open mind and a listening heart. How long will I have to wait to even hear you say my name? I feel sick to my stomach whenever people mention the possibility of you not coming back to me. I know that all this is my fault. And I know that I'm the one who put us in this place. I know this is a time to fix things for myself and fix things for you. But do you know how hard it is with no guarantee? Without a word from you? No encouragement. It seems that everyone's against me. That's because they've seen the real me.

I can't stand you not being here. Not talking to you everyday. Did all the good get washed away with the bad? I feel like you have my heart in your hands and in one word, one text, one conversation, it could all be over. I'm sitting here at the edge of my seat waiting for you to acknowledge that I exist again. This isn't a way to live... With all these memories still fresh in my head, I'm not sure where to go from here. Do I keep trying? Do I let you come to me? Every time I see you I feel like this wound gets deeper. I can't stand when they even mention your name. No one knew you like I did. No one knew me like you did. I feel like I'm stuck in this vortex and I keep getting sucked in further and further. Can you please pull me out?

I love everything you are. Everything you stood for. Your imperfections. Our misunerstandings. Our inside jokes. Our talks. Our walks. The times no one else stood by me, but you. When you were always at the end of the phone. When you gave up so much to be with me. I hate that you're gone. I hate myself for what I did. I hate that I tossed everything we had away. I hate that I didn't see you for what you were. I hate that I never gave you a chance. I hate that things ended this way I hate not knowing if you'll come back to me. I hate knowing that you love me...