When I was a teenager and in my early twenties, I was under pressure a lot. There WAS no safe place, and I was not only expected to apparently ignore this fact, but I was also expected to be super-human, affective (react to nothing at all, good or bad), conjure perfect grades, never get sick/tired, never miss an appt, never be late, never complain, always be pleasant and pleasing.
I had to be a good little soldier. This meant never allowing anyone to love me or me to love them back. This meant always being "tough" and never crying in front of others. This meant pretending that I didn't need help or rest or safety.
One of my best friends at the time, an ISTP, had absolutely no problem with the explosions that came out of me. Everyone else, besides my sister and my closest girlfriends, seemed to cower and blame me even more for finally reaching the limit of human strength. They couldn't take me coming apart. Not only did he not mind, he found ways to help me, make me feel safe, and methods to blow off the hideous amount of pressure placed on me in other ways -- before I went supernova. He was one of the first people who didn't treat me like a time bomb, like I was a real generous competent person with legitimate feelings and that I was allowed to blow the roof off on occasion because there was no way any person could bottle up what I was going through.
Because I see some of Poki's wife in me, and I do mean beyond my usual contained fieriness, I think she's wrestling with something and needs to talk to someone outside the family to help her regain her bearings. We have fiery natures to begin with, and that's NEVER a bad thing, but she sounds like I did when I was being besieged and had no coping skills to combat my inner demons and the outer forces that made me feel off-balance.