Losing Maddie Also Meant Losing Myself. Nobody Warned Me About That Part.
When Chris Coulter lost his daughter Maddie in 2015, he spent the next nine years trying to get back to the man he was before. Nobody warned him about the second loss, the one that happens underneath. This is a piece about losing yourself after losing a child, about the two selves that argue in private, and about what finally stopped the arguing after eleven years.
I Thought I Had ADHD. It Was Grief.
After losing his daughter, Chris Coulter watched his psychological profile become obsolete overnight. The decisive, driven results were gone. He blamed adult ADHD, his medication, early dementia, even mould in his coffee, before his doctor named the real cause. This post covers what grief does to memory, concentration and motivation, and why forgetting a passcode does not mean you are losing your mind.
The hardest part of losing a child isn't what most people think.
The hardest part of losing a child is not the funeral. It is learning to live with the guilt, unanswered questions, and fear that your child will be forgotten. Chris Coulter shares what grief looks like ten years after losing his daughter Maddie and offers practical ways to support bereaved parents with compassion, presence, and remembrance.
Grief Doesn't Get Smaller. You Get Larger Around It
Over ten years, parents who have lost a child find their way to Chris Coulter. They carry the same four questions. When does the pain ease. The guilt. How to honour their child. And the one nobody asks out loud. This is his honest answer to all of them. In memory of Maddie Coulter. June 28, 2000 — April 11, 2015.