I’m reminded, last night, as I have been many many times over the past year, of the importance of owning up to your own shit.
I remember reading a line in a book sometime, years ago. It said that sometimes we don’t even realize we’re in a bad mood until we’re around other people. It’s like, our moodiness is hard to recognize until it can bump or crash up against another person.
Never have I found that to be more true than in marriage. And I give myself a huge, internal pat on the back whenever I can pause in the middle of some misplaced crankiness that I’m splattering all over my bewildered, and most often innocent husband… take a breath… and explain what’s really going on in my head. Resisting the urge to imply that he is somehow to blame.
Most of the time I can get there… even if it takes me a while.
Sometimes I can’t.
But I sure do try. Because we’re allies in this life we’ve created, not scape goats for our own individual tantrums. And I like it better that way.
Conversations 
I had an unpleasant interaction with a cashier, and I nearly strangled my son for it when we got to the car. It was amazing to see it happen. I didn’t realize how upset I was, until the temptation arose to dump in on my little guy.
I think that’s what usually happens – we see the bad mood because it rises up with the opportunity to get dumped on someone who will take it. That usually means partner/family.
I also have an overwhelming urge to call my husband when I get fearful or stressed, again because somewhere inside I believe that by getting him worked up, I will be relieved of some of my own emotion.
Sounds like this is your insight too. Let’s keep owning this shit!