He was sitting at the dining table trying to fill out an online form and pecking at the laptop with his fingers. It was an old Hewlett Packard and ran very slow. From the upstairs bedroom I could hear his agitation as he started to hit the keys harder and harder until he was pounding all the buttons on the keyboard. Of course, being my duty, I headed downstairs to try to calm him before it became a full blown episode. Too late, my efforts were futile. He had already worked himself into a manic state of irrational fury. He just kept pounding the keys and yelling everything from ” piece of $— computer, why him, his life is miserable, it’s because of me, I caused this” to “I just want to kill somebody, I’d feel so much better, I could kill fifty people and sleep just fine.” Then glaring at me with those demon eyes, he lifted the computer high above his head and propelled it into the concrete outside the doorway to the patio. The job wasn’t done though. He kept stomping on it and bending to pick up more pieces of it and throw them against the house, the ground, the fence. Yes, of course screaming. When he was done with the computer, his attention was on me and how I am ” a horrible person, why was he married to me, I need to get my $— and get out, he was leaving, he wants a divorce, he wants to kill someone, he wants to choke the $— out of me.” The girls were home and I told them to go get ice cream and I would call them when he was calm again. This went on for a few hours until he was spent. Then the “poor him” blues set in. He’s crying huge body wracking sobs about how he’s sorry, it’s all his fault, he will try harder, he didn’t mean it….and how great I am for putting up with him because he doesn’t deserve me. Same thing, different day. Every day the same.