An instruction manual on falling apart to come together again, Catherine Klatzker’s frank memoir, You Will Never Be Normal, confronts the darkness with the enlightenment of telling. Klatzker, a retired pediatric ICU nurse of 22 years, weaves together a lifetime of repressed trauma and abuse with the laser-sharp humanity of an attentive RN. The story—and the author’s often wrenching rendering of it in flashback vignettes—is not the typical clinician-as-patient narrative but one that engages the reader to join her as she makes her way towards healing.
The embodied experience of an adult survivor of sexual and emotional abuse is one of shame, panic and confusion, and Klatzker tells it all with grace, sparing little in her exploration of the physiological manifestations of her own trauma such as insomnia and incontinence. We feel her suffering but also her professional detachment: It’s as if she’s conducting a thorough patient history of her own past.
Readers become familiar with the embodiment of her triggers as she welcomes us into the wounds of her intimate relationships. Klatzker’s family becomes our family, her partners our partners—and her demons become ours. “No one knew the extra layer of experience I brought to my own pain, to my own body, filtering my experience of myself,” she tells us. To cope, Klatzker mastered the art of dissociating into “parts,” or what she describes as “going away,” sometimes happening while she was at work in the hospital or at home caring for her child.
Learning about the causes and triggers of Klatzker’s Parts (or what is later labeled Traumatic Dissociative Identity Disorder) is a heartbreaking revelation throughout the memoir. “What I knew was gut-knowledge, stored in my body,” Klatzker states, and that knowledge unfolds in devastating and plain language, a subconscious realization oftentimes unfolding mid-sentence. Her Parts often take hostage of her mind at random moments, coming into play when she’s driving or during emotional interludes with her husband. Fragmented memories emerge in the many versions of herself she meets and refines over the years.
In unpacking precarious relationships, deaths, and more, Klatzker’s relationship with her psychotherapist is one that models seeing her as a whole person and not just the sum of her parts. “He spoke in language all my parts would understand, trying to get the same message across to all of us, so there would be no gaps.” The deep work they do together inspires readers to reflect on the way healing from trauma is rarely linear and never truly ends. Yet there is a sense of resolution to Klatzker’s bleak house of pain: In telling her story, she confronts her past and envisions the way to move forward. In the end, the book’s title takes on new meaning: You Will Never Be Normal is not a life sentence but instead an acknowledgement of difference and an acceptance of it.— Angelica Recierdo
Angelica Recierdo works as a Clinical Content Editor at Doximity in San Francisco, CA. She received her Bachelor of Science in Nursing from Northeastern University and her M.S. in Narrative Medicine from Columbia University. Angelica was also a Global Health Corps Fellow in 2016-17. She has worked at the intersection of health and writing/communications, specifically in the fields of healthcare innovation, health equity, and racial justice. Angelica is a creative writer, and her work can be found in Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine, Literary Orphans, HalfwayDownTheStairs and The Huntington News, among others. Her essay “Coming Out of the Medical Closet” appeared in the Spring 2014 Intima.