angry

Attention over time

7-day rolling share of analyzed posts/comments mentioning this entity · 90 daily points ending 2026-09-28

Final complete day: 2026-09-28. Attention was 0.9% — this entity appeared in 9 of 988 analyzed posts/comments in the seven days ending that day (10 mentions).

Each point is a seven-day rolling window of complete UTC days; a point is comparable only when at least 100 analyzed posts or comments fall inside it. A day with no analyzed records counts as zero; missing coverage is marked and never shown as zero. The series ends at the latest complete analyzed day — it never extends into the current incomplete day. How attention is measured.

Recent mentions

1. 2026-09-26 14:05 UTCComment

   My MIL doesn't *or won't* believe my wife has AD. She blames me for my wife's condition (whatever she thinks it is), and the stress I inflict on my wife. I have seen her very few times in the last couple of years. She rarely calls my wife and wonders why she doesn't hear from my wife. My wife doesn't really think/remember to call her, either. She never comes by our house, even though she knows my wife doesn't drive. (she lives about 2 miles away) I'm still working diligently to help my wife and (hopefully) stop the progression. I do wonder what my attitude toward my MIL will be, if I'm successful. I can't say I'm heartbroken as much as I am confused/angry/disgusted by my MIL's lack of help/action. I've pretty much given up on her.

2. 2026-09-25 15:54 UTCPost

   My grandma has alzheimers and I don't know how to handle how I feel about the way my family treats her - ​ (FYI I'm 17) My grandma has alzheimers, and I honestly don't know what to do with my feelings about the situation. She can be REALLY difficult. She can be "annoying" repetitive, demanding, unreasonable, and sometimes genuinely insufferable to be around, because she's more of a talkive person trying to prove her point and start saying stuff like "alright I'm lying I'm sorry I' such a disgrace I'll leave" or like interlinking our convos like if I tell her not to eat sugar alot and I don't give her, she'll come within the next 5 mins and be like "Oh but atleast I'm allowed to drink water or am I restricted from that" in a really sarcastic tone. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. There are times when I get extremely frustrated with her too, but since months I've been trying to just be calm or just ignore it as I kniw that she isn't choosing to behave this way. A lot of the things that drive us crazy are symptoms of something she can't fully control, and I feel horrible when I get angry at her for it. Recently I've been trying really hard to change how I interact with her. I'm trying to speak normally and kindly to her, not snap at her, and remember that she's still a person even when she's being extremely difficult. The problem is that my dad gets very frustrated with her. He sometimes gets angry, he doesn't yell at her but at times raises his voice like pleading her to just sit, but to me if I interfere he tells me to not and says things like that he deserves peace in his own home and I shouldn't constantly nag him into what he should say and what he shouldn't. My parents aren't abusing her, and I'm not trying to portray them that way. I understand that taking care of someone with alzheimers is exhausting and that my dad has a right to be frustrated. (To an extent) But hearing him talk about her like that genuinely hurts me. I keep thinking about what it would feel like if, when I was older, my husband spoke about my own mother that way when she was elderly and dependent on us. My mom doesn't really side with me either. She just tries to stay calm with evwryone and doesn't want thw situation to drag so she just leaves it there. And I understand that I'm not the person responsible for managing my grandma's care, but it still hurts to sit there and hear someone who can't fully control their behaviour being talked about like they're just a burden. At the same time, I don't want to become self-righteous about this. I know I'm not the one dealing with the full responsibility of caring for her. I know my dad is tired. And I know that living with someone with dementia can probably push you to your limit. I just don't know anymore. How do you deal with the emotional side of watching someone with dementia become difficult, while still remembering that they aren't choosing it? What do you do when you disagree with how your family is handling them, but you're not actually the person responsible for their care? I'm only 17, so I also don't want to overstep and act like I know more than the adults in my family. I just don't know how to stop feeling so awful about the whole thing.

3. 2026-09-25 02:11 UTCComment

   My 64 year old eoa wife stage 6 diagnosed in 2019? I’m tired of being a caregiver. But with help from in home caregivers we are surviving. She had a recent suspected uti which we treated. But now is getting really angry. Both of us didn’t get much sleep these last couple of nights. Finally got a gummy in her and she is mellowing a little bit It’s so hard to understand what’s going on. You think you’ve got it figured out until you don’t.

4. 2026-09-24 21:17 UTCComment

   My mum has probably so far to go. At 84 last year she was just mild cognitive but now I think it's called Capgass she permanently convinced there are terrible plots to steal from her, poison her, trick her. My dear father her husband of 60 plus years is an imposter and she has become so angry..she knows me but the hatred she seems to have found for most of mankind seems the worst insult to my beautiful brave clever ambitious mother. I remember my grandmother only like this and remember not understanding at all it was the illness..and we have so far to go . Dad wanted to keep her at home and we will but im starting to fear for his safety. I understand and im sorry I almost envy you that your mother seems peaceful however terribly sad it is, I already want this over and you have already struggled so long . Wishing you strength

5. 2026-09-24 19:44 UTCComment

   I understand this more than I wish I did. My mom was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and strangely, it has brought me closer to God. But not because I’ve found some explanation that makes any of it okay. I haven’t. I’m still sad all of the time, and I’m finding it difficult not to worry about the future. I’m struggling to go about the day to day things of my life— helping customers at work with a smile on my face, talking with friends about lighthearted things and happy milestones that they are experiencing, or trying to carry something other than negative energy home to my spouse. I don’t believe God gave my mother Alzheimer’s— and, more specifically, that he gave it to her for a reason. I don’t think her suffering is part of some carefully orchestrated lesson for the rest of us. I don’t know why she has it, but I also don’t blame God for it. He never promised me that my mom would not get Alzheimer’s. And even if I could somehow intuit a greater purpose from it, I don’t think that would bring me comfort. I have repeatedly expressed to God that if there is a lesson in all of this, I would be much happier not learning it— not of it means losing my mother in such a tragic, drawn out, painful way. She’s my best friend. I believe that God loves her (even more than I do) and that he hates her Alzheimer’s just as much as I do. I like to think that he is capable of feeling— and does feel— the same big emotions that I’m experiencing. Within my own faith tradition, what I’ve been leaning into instead is that the Bible gives me a surprising amount of permission to be angry with God. Job argued with God. The psalmists accused God of abandoning them. Jesus himself cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Unfortunately, scripture doesn’t usually resolve suffering into a neat answer. Sometimes it simply gives me a language for screaming into the darkness. Rachel Held Evans was an author from a background very similar to mine—American, Southern, evangelical, born into the era of Ronald Reagan and the Moral Majority. A lot of what came with that world had fueled deep questions that became stumbling blocks in my own faith. Then I came across one of her books, and it comforted me because she wrote about a faith spacious enough for doubt, anger, grief, and unanswered questions, rather than the boxed responses to difficult questions that I had grown up with (the kinds of questions that often seemed to make the people around me uncomfortable). That has become important to me. I don’t need to call Alzheimer’s good, or insist that it has a purpose, in order to believe God is good. I don’t need to find God in the disease. Maybe I look for God in the people who refuse to abandon someone because of it… in the person changing the soiled sheets, repeating the same answer for the twentieth time, or holding a hand that may no longer remember whose hand it is. And I’ve come to believe that if all I can feel toward God right now is anger or frustration, that doesn’t disqualify me from faith. Sometimes wrestling with God is the most honest relationship that I can manage with him, because I’d rather bring God my rage than manufacture gratitude for something that is genuinely terrible.