Permission to enter His Space

I continue to mourn the fact that I have to ask permission to enter my husbands space. Why can't I just turn to my husband while we're sitting on the couch, and ask a normal, every day question, get an answer, then move on? ("Honey, can you please get out the nail gun and air compressor for me so I can put the lattice up on the back fence?" Issue #1: I can't find anything in his garage mess, issue #2: He will never actually do this chore for us, so I have to do it.) Why does it have to be this incredibly hard dance that involves asking him "Is this a good time to talk?" Trying to figure out if he's rested enough to carry on a conversation. Asking him to disengage from the computer, the TV, the cell phone, AND the tablet, that are all spread around him, long enough to listen to me.

This evening when I asked him that question, I didn't go through the dance. I knew better, but I simply asked him the question, and started to realize my mistake as he started to answer me while looking at his computer and was typing while answering me. I knew right then, that I had made the error. But why is it MY error? Why can't it be partly his fault for not treating his ADD adequately enough to save our marriage? Why can't it be his fault for realizing that I wanted to ask him something quick and simple, and STOP with the electronics long enough to answer me? Why can't he, why can't he, why can't he? Because he can't/won't right now. That's it. I have to stick to my boundaries. I have to stick to this incredibly complicated way of life regarding interacting with my own husband. I have to stick to all I have learned about how the ADD brain works, and how my own therapy has taught me to hold my boundaries. I have to keep reminding him that the lying, disrespect, distraction, speeding tickets, disorganization/messes, financial problems are only going to last so long, before I've had enough, and I say goodbye.

I mourn the fact that I had to significantly lower my bar when it comes to cleanliness, organization, etc. I mourn that I conceded to let everything he does be "good enough". I mourn that I can never, ever, have a spontaneous, "normal" conversation with my husband. I mourn that every single interaction we have is layered so deeply that I feel like I'm going crazy. I mourn that I had to thank a grown man for doing chores around his own house. I mourn that he is on so many pain meds and anti-anxiety meds and sleep aids and alcohol that we can't have sex any more. I mourn that he has so little motivation to do anything, that I don't feel like he's part of this family any more.

Permission to enter his life, his space, his Heart? I guess I've been denied because there's no room. I have never hated anything more in my life than his ADD, and the blindfold it has put on him.