All articles7 minute read
I am angry at the person I am caring for
Not frustrated. Angry. At them, at the disease, at the length of it. Almost nobody says this out loud, and almost everybody feels it.
He has asked the same question nine times and you heard yourself snap, and the look on his face afterwards is going to stay with you all evening.
Almost every article about this substitutes a gentler word. Frustration. Stress. Compassion fatigue. Those are real, and they are not what you are looking for at eleven at night when you have just slammed a cupboard door.
So, plainly: anger at the person you are caring for is close to universal, it is not evidence that you have stopped loving them, and it is not a character flaw that better people avoid.
It is usually not about the thing that happened
The ninth question is not what did it. The ninth question landed on four hours of sleep, a job you are behind on, a sibling who has not called, and a version of your life you did not agree to.
Caregivers describe this again and again: the rage is wildly out of proportion to the trigger, which is how they know it was not about the trigger.
Some of it is grief with nowhere to go
You are losing someone who is still in the room. There is no funeral for that and no week off work for it, and so it arrives as irritation instead, because irritation is the one feeling the day has room for.
People who name it as grief describe the anger loosening slightly. Not going, loosening.
Some of it is older than the illness
This is the part that gets left out. Not everyone is caring for someone who was kind to them.
People are bathing fathers who hit them, managing money for mothers who were cruel about their weight for thirty years, and sitting up at night with someone who never once did that for them. The care is real and so is the history, and the history does not politely wait outside.
If that is you, most of what is written about caregiving will not fit, because it assumes a relationship you did not have.
What people do in the moment
Leave the room. Not dramatically, just go. Almost everyone arrives at this independently, and almost everyone says it took them too long to give themselves permission.
Put a door between you for two minutes. Somebody with dementia will very often not remember the gap. You will.
Say the sentence out loud somewhere they cannot hear it. "I am so angry at you." People describe this as embarrassing and effective.
And decide in advance what you will do, before you need it, because nothing gets decided well at the point of rage.
The guilt afterwards is its own problem
Caregivers report the guilt lasting far longer than the anger did, and doing more damage. A snapped sentence at four in the afternoon gets turned over at two in the morning for a week.
What helps is comparing yourself to a real person rather than to an idea. Not "a good daughter would not have said that", but "what would I say to somebody else who told me they said that." Most people are enormously kinder to a stranger than to themselves.
The line, said plainly
Feeling it is not the same as doing something with it, and the difference matters more than anything else on this page.
If you have grabbed someone, or you are frightened of what you might do, or you have started thinking about it in a way that feels like planning rather than venting, that is the point to tell somebody today. A doctor, a helpline, an emergency service if it is close.
Not because you are a bad person. Because people at the end of their capacity hurt people they love, and the ones who get help first are almost always the ones who took the thought seriously the first time they had it.
Nearly everyone reading this is nowhere near that line. It is written down because the people who are near it are the least likely to be told.
One caregiver, four years in: "I love my mother and some days I cannot stand the sight of her. I stopped trying to make those two things agree."
They do not have to agree. They just both have to be allowed.
Everything here is what worked for people doing this at home. It is not medical advice, and Kind Soup is not a medical or emergency service. If somebody is in danger, contact your local emergency number.
Also on Kind Soup
- Why won’t mom shower?Not the clinical answer. What actually worked for people who fought this every week for years.
- Sundowning: what actually helps at four in the afternoonShe is fine all day. Around four it starts. Here is what caregivers do about the hardest two hours of the day.
